


A Destiny Unveil'd

by Katef



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 15:47:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8496052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katef/pseuds/Katef
Summary: How much damage can be done when a sentinel rejects his guide?  Can Jim learn from his mistakes before Blair comes to permanent harm?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in December 2013, this was my attempt to explore how strong a symbiotic connection might be between sentinel and guide, if indeed one existed. And if one did, could they survive apart? See what you think,
> 
> K x

**Part 1: An abiding intolerance:**   
**Newport, Oregon: April 2000.**   


Blair stood on the wind-blown cliff edge, looking out upon the grey and angry sea crashing upon the rocks below. After a winter of severe storms, the early April weather hadn’t improved that much yet, but despite the stinging combination of light rain and spindrift that chilled him to the bone, he felt no urge to retreat to the relative comfort of his ancient Volvo parked in the turnout a few yards away. He had re-discovered this particular isolated spot shortly after arriving at Newport to visit with Naomi and her old friends, and it had quickly become his location of choice when the depression began to weigh too heavily on him for him to want to burden his colleagues, students and friends with his gloomy presence. If he had but known it, there were actually very few who would actively welcome his consideration. Most of his acquaintance were genuinely fond of him, and felt his suffering all the more keenly, knowing that he did his utmost to keep it at bay most of the time, and they would give anything to be able to alleviate his distress. 

But sometimes it grew too great for him to bear; the ache of loneliness squeezing his gut and causing his chest to contract in an almost physical pain such that, if he was disposed to be fanciful, he might almost think that his heart was in the process of actually breaking. And it wasn’t as if it was getting better with the passage of time. In fact, if anything it was getting worse in some ways, although he was slowly training himself to ride out the lowest of the lows for the sake of the people around him who really cared for him. And then there were the panic attacks. It seemed sometimes that barely a week passed without something setting him off, but so far he had managed to keep them more or less private. He had grown to recognise the danger signals so well over the past year that most of the time he could find a secluded bolt-hole in which to ride them out. Dangerous, to be sure, but preferable in his opinion to having to bear the cloying sympathy and well-meaning aid offered by witnesses to his pathetic melt-downs. 

Breathing deeply, Blair forced himself to calm down, seeking solace and distraction in the forces of nature battering at him, knowing that he had to get back soon for his afternoon class at the Community College. He was teaching a couple of basic combined archaeology and anthropology courses to a group of mostly mature students, all of whom had quickly become fond of their newest teacher, such that he already had a waiting list of hopefuls eagerly seeking places as soon as they occurred. He knew he was lucky to have landed the part-time position, and that it was thanks mainly to Naomi and her old friends’ influence, and he was sincerely grateful for their efforts. Far too much so to throw it away by anything as pitiful as absenteeism. He’d been there, done that before, but he quickly clamped down on thoughts of Rainier and his lost opportunities there. He was supposed to be trying to lighten up, not deepening his melancholy. 

Gazing down the coastline, he could easily make out the Yaquina Head lighthouse; at 93 feet high, the tallest of the lighthouses on the Oregon coast. His agile brain automatically supplied the information, and a tiny, sardonic grin quirked Blair’s generous mouth for a moment. How easily his inquisitive mind had absorbed so much information over the years, and how eagerly he had shared his encyclopaedic knowledge whether it was appreciated or not. 

And immediately he was reminded of Jim’s long-suffering sighs and ‘Not now, Darwins’ and the disparaging sneers exchanged between his ex-partner and whoever else might be in his vicinity. 

No. He wasn’t going there. He wasn’t going to think about Jim. He was here to clear his head for his afternoon class, not wallow in the past. 

Giving himself a final firm mental shake, he stepped back from the retaining wall, and retreated to his car, as good as he was going to get for now. 

However, just as he reached for the driver’s side door handle, a beat-up old Prius pulled in behind him, disgorging a tall, shabbily dressed man of around Blair’s own age, his long blonde dreadlocks whipping around his pleasantly smiling face as the wind caught them. 

“Hey, Blair, glad I caught you. Thought you might be up here. Polly’s given me a message for you about the folk festival tomorrow night,” and he grinned amicably at his old friend, trying for relaxed and chilled-out, but not quite able to hide the concern deep in his light brown eyes.  


\----------------------  


Casey Jones (yes, really!) had known Blair for years, ever since Naomi had arrived in Newport so long ago to visit friends who had set up a commune in a large, rambling old farmhouse close to the town. Thoroughly approving of the self-sufficient group, and throwing herself enthusiastically into the spiritual principles and practical aspects governing its members, Naomi had elected to stay at Butler’s Farm for several months before the wanderlust struck again. During that time, her eight-year-old son had made very welcome, his inquisitive nature and bubbling personality winning over all and sundry, and being quickly absorbed into the group. He had found an instant rapport with young Casey, the son of one of the founder members, and the two had been inseparable until Blair was forced to leave with his peripatetic Mom, his fleeting glimpse of longed-for stability ripped away once more. 

Over the years, Naomi had returned periodically, and several times had left Blair with her friends as she travelled on alone to one retreat or another, something that had actually pleased Blair no end. Because every time he came back, he resumed his easy camaraderie with Casey as if they had never been apart, and the relationship had been one of the few constants in an otherwise turbulent childhood. 

The group had long since evolved from the idealistic hippy-style commune it had once been, but several of the original members remained, and had become valued members of the Newport community, especially in the artistic and cultural life of the town. Rather than bartering the macramé purses and tie-dye tees of the past, some of them had become established artisans in their own right, creating artworks which sold for very good prices in the eclectic shops and galleries in Nye Beach. Casey himself was an accomplished craftsman and woodworker, turning out beautiful one-off wooden artefacts and sculptures as well as being involved in the local music scene. His mother, Polly, not only ran a small but successful craft shop specialising in locally made _objets-d’art_ , but was also an energetic and enthusiastic driving force behind many of the town’s frequent music and dance festivals. 

And she had taken Blair to her heart like another son. 

She had therefore welcomed him with open arms when, dispirited and broken, he had turned up a year ago on her doorstep, apologising profusely for the inconvenience, but seeking Naomi in the hope that he could stay with her for a spell while he tried to get himself together. He knew that his Mom had said she would be travelling to Newport to process the events immediately before and after the diss disaster in which she had played such an instrumental, if unintentional role, and when his world had collapsed around him, he could think of nowhere else to run. 

Polly had immediately drawn him inside, over-riding his half-hearted objections, and had settled him in her warm and homely kitchen with a cup of soothing tea while she called Naomi, who was helping out in Polly’s shop. 

He had been so exhausted and distressed at the time that he could recall little about those first few days, but he had gradually pulled himself together enough to contribute to his ‘second Mom’s’ household, doing his share of the chores and trying not to be too much of a death’s head at the feast, so to speak. And before too long, the combined care, support and acceptance of Casey, Polly and their extended family, and also Naomi’s somewhat guilt-ridden if undoubted love had bolstered his battered self-confidence enough for him to begin to look for some sort of paid work even if he no believed in, or sought after, his long-cherished dreams. Dreams of a doctorate that was no longer an option, and a reciprocation of his love for his adored Sentinel that could never be. 

And again Polly had come up with the answer, having contacts with the local Community College, and knowing that the energetic and forward-thinking new Principle had intentions of expanding the number and type of courses on offer. She immediately approached the man, whom she had gotten to know in social circles, and pushed her suggestion that archaeology and anthropology would be a popular inclusion in his revamped curriculum, and it just happened that she knew of an excellent teacher who was currently available. 

Of course, Dr Swenson had heard of Blair’s press conference, and was understandably dubious about the man’s ethics. However, Polly had quickly reassured him that she had known Blair since childhood, could vouch for his good character, and that Swenson should give him a chance. 

And to be fair, Swenson recognised that, should he be able to get past his initial concerns, young Sandburg already had far better qualifications and teaching experience than anyone he could normally have hoped to attract to his small institution. 

Nearly a year on, the Principle had had no reason to regret his decision, judging by the success of his students and the young teacher’s popularity even if Sandburg’s rather fragile air occasionally caused him some concern. Certainly he would have been much more worried if he had known the pre-dissertation Blair, and definitely the pre-Alex and ‘fountain incident’ Blair, but as far as he was concerned, the gentle, sad-looking and self-effacing teacher was nothing but beneficial to his college’s reputation. 

And the post had been beneficial to Blair also. Although he no longer had the same level of enthusiasm for his chosen field of study, his students’ undoubted interest sparked a positive reaction in him such that he was able to perform more than adequately in the classroom. As he ruefully admitted to himself, the reason definitely had a lot to do with the fact that the majority of his students now were mature students – there because they chose to be, and not a bunch of freshmen, the majority of whom were simply looking for an easy way to keep their grades up.  


\------------------------------  


Turning towards his friend, Blair grinned ruefully up at the taller man, his eyes knowing as he said, “Hey, man. Good to see you, but it’s OK. I’m not about to jump!” 

Casey laughed in response, and closed the distance between them, pulling Blair into a hug. “I know it, Runt. But I do have a message, honest!” and Blair smiled up at him, glad of the uncomplicated affection, but aware that Casey wasn’t completely convinced by his half-joking comment. Nevertheless, he didn’t have the energy to press the matter, so he simply asked, “OK, man. So what is so urgent that Polly sends you up here in a gale to tell me?” and he allowed himself to be towed over to the Prius where both men took shelter. 

“Well, it’s two things really. Mom wanted to know if we can persuade you to sing at the folk concert tomorrow night. She realises it’s short notice, but to be honest, buddy, I think she knows that if she’d have asked you weeks ago, you’d have done your best to get out of it; arranged an unmissable tutorial session or something. We really want you there, man. You could do with some relaxation outside of the family. And I was hoping that we could do some sort of duet? We’ve had enough practice together over the years, and I’ve heard you playing guitar in your room at night, so I know you’ve still got it. What do you say?” 

“I say that’s pretty sneaky of Polly,” murmured Blair with a wry glance at his friend. “But I’ll think about it, OK? I’ll let her know tonight, one way or the other, if that’s acceptable. 

“But what’s the second thing?” he asked, eyebrow quirking inquisitively. “Should I be worried?” 

“Ah, well. Um, it’s a bit more of a potentially touchy subject, bro, but we all mean well, OK? No one wants to upset you at all...” and at Blair’s bemused invitation, he continued. 

“It’s about your birthday, buddy. It’s not so far off, and we’d like to organise something special for you, especially as last year’s was pretty much a lost cause as far as celebrations were concerned. But we don’t want to do anything that you don’t want. It’s just that we love you, man, and Polly so wants to do something to cheer you up. You know what Mom’s like. She worries about you, buddy. Hell, we all do. What do you say?” and he gazed at his friend, expression open and sincere, genuinely wanting to please his smaller companion. 

Blair was silent for long moments, his eyes taking on a faraway look as he considered Casey’s proposition, and inevitably recalling the events surrounding his 30th birthday a year ago.  


\----------------------------  


**Previous May, Butler’s Farm, Newport, OR:**  


Classes over for the day, Blair entered Polly’s bright and welcoming kitchen, dropping his bookbag down beside the scrubbed pine table as he moved towards the big old-fashioned walk-in refrigerator to retrieve a beer. He felt tired, which was pretty much par for the course these days, and he wryly recalled how he had always been referred to as the ‘Energiser Bunny’ at the PD, sometimes in a less-than-flattering manner. True he had always been an enthusiastic, glass-half-full kind of guy; his hyper energy levels occasionally wearing for the company he was keeping, but his sunny disposition and cheery optimism had never let him down. Until, that was, he began to feel the brunt of his Sentinel and roommate’s growing irritation and suspicion. 

Popping the top off his bottle, he sank wearily down on one of the hard wooden kitchen chairs, intending to take a few minutes to recharge his failing batteries before the rest of the house’s occupants arrived home. 

Although well aware that he was only tormenting himself needlessly, he still couldn’t prevent his thoughts straying to his erstwhile study subject and partner, who he had once called his best friend and Sentinel. And to whom he had given his heart and soul only to have it rejected out of hand. 

Attempting valiantly if unsuccessfully to remain as objective as possible, he once again ran through the most obvious landmarks in their failing relationship, admitting that he had fucked up royally more than once, but not believing that he had deserved the extreme reactions his mistakes had elicited from the big cop. 

Trying hard to contain the tears of self-pity that wanted to escape from beneath his closed lids, he forced himself to skate over so much that had happened between them, from Jim’s hurt and anger on reading the first chapter of Blair’s paper despite promising not to, to his accusations of disloyalty and untrustworthiness when Blair really had tried to tell Jim about his meeting with Alex. 

And when Jim had thrown him out of the loft to be left unprotected and at the mercy of the crazy female Sentinel, he could barely contain the audible gulp caused by the painful lump of emotion that rose in his throat. 

But Jim had come for him; had called him back from the other side because he needed Blair’s help. And Blair had returned, sure that all was going to be well and that Jim must feel the same for him as he did about his Sentinel; the merging of their spirit animals revealing everything they needed to know about each other. Everything that should make them a bonded Sentinel and Guide pair. 

And Jim had denied him. Hadn’t wanted to ‘take that trip’ for whatever reason. 

He had even committed the ultimate betrayal as he made out with his Guide’s murderer on that beach in front of Blair’s shocked and disbelieving eyes, barely preventing her from shooting Blair in cold blood. And thereafter had proceeded to push away and belittle his confused and hurting partner at every opportunity until Blair no longer knew what, if any place he had with Jim Ellison. 

And then Naomi visited. His naive, unthinking Mom, who was convinced that she had the right to interfere with her son’s life whenever she so chose. 

The sending of his paper to Sid Graham, and the terrible aftermath of the train of events set in motion by her thoughtless action had completely destroyed him. 

He had honestly seen no other way to protect Jim and his colleagues at the PD but by his self-immolation at the press conference, and afterwards, despite Jim’s half-assed apology at the hospital, they never seemed to actually talk until the Keller incident, which was the last time Blair accompanied his Sentinel on a case. 

When Jim was injured, once again the chance to communicate was allowed to lapse so that, by the time Simon and Jim had concocted and made the infamous ‘badge offer,’ it was way too little, and much too late. 

Yes, he had been incredibly comforted by the thought that he still had friends in the MCU, but surely they could see that the proposition was completely unworkable? But after he’d taken a quiet and repentant Naomi to the airport that evening, his attempt to explain just why it couldn’t happen to an unbending and disbelieving Jim had ended up in a terrible row, with both of them saying unforgivable things to each other. 

The upshot had seen Jim storming off to bed, leaving Blair to quietly pack up his remaining belongings – (most of them being still in the boxes from when Jim had thrown him out), and to take himself, his dreams and his broken heart as far away from the object of his desire as he possibly could. 

Wiping impatiently at the tear that had managed to escape after all, and sniffling a little in self-disgust, Blair took a long swig from his beer, and finally noticed a card, addressed to him, propped up against the vase in the centre of the table. 

Instantly diverted, he reached for it, and tore it open only to sit back in his chair, momentarily stunned by its contents. It turned out to be a large and obviously expensive 30th Birthday card, humorous but tasteful, and he was shocked to realise that his birthday was only days away, and he had given it no thought at all. Back in the days when they had still been speaking, Blair had treated Jim to one of his mini-lectures on the significance of the year, explaining how, in some societies 30 was considered to be the age of responsible maturity – at which Jim had laughed outright – and then continuing by lamenting that in modern society, for many of the younger generation it was the age when one was officially considered ‘old’. “Past it, man! Hear what I’m saying?” And Jim had sniggered at that also, treating his partner to an affectionate pat on the cheek as he promised to buy Blair a bath chair in which he could rest his ‘officially old’ limbs. 

And in retrospect, Blair realised that it represented probably one of the last of their truly amicable and untainted interactions, and all the more poignant for that. 

Eagerly scanning the contents of the card, at first he was amazed at, and grateful for, the many messages of goodwill penned within. There were greetings from Megan, Joel, H, Rafe, Rhonda, Serena and even Susan the doughnut girl as well as several others from different departments he hadn’t even realised had acknowledged his presence, unless as an unavoidable nuisance. 

But nothing from Jim, or Simon. Not even a signature. 

And that’s when he knew it really was all over, and there was no going back. The ‘abiding tolerance’ Jim had claimed Simon felt for Blair was nothing of the sort, and they were both done with him. 

And at that point, he laid his head down on his crossed arms and wept.  


\-----------------------------  


A short while later, Polly and Naomi had arrived home to find Blair asleep, still slumped over the kitchen table. Immediately concerned knowing his fragile state, they carefully checked him over without attempting to wake him, exchanging a relieved glance when it appeared that he was physically OK. However, since it was equally obvious that he had cried himself to sleep, Naomi quickly scanned the immediate area, seeking some clue as to what had upset her son so much once again. Spotting the open card on the table, she picked it up and silently indicated to Polly that she should follow Naomi into the adjoining room to investigate its contents. 

On the surface, it was a perfectly genuine gesture of affection from Blair’s former friends, and Polly was somewhat puzzled when her normally peace-loving Naomi suddenly swore angrily if softly in deference to her sleeping son. “Damn that insensitive bastard!” she hissed. “Couldn’t he even acknowledge Blair? How hard could it be? After everything my boy has done for that ingrate! How _dare_ he!” 

Although wary of betraying Blair’s confidence yet again, Naomi realised that her friend needed some form of explanation for her atypical outburst, and was also aware that Blair had dropped more than a few hints himself over the few weeks of his stay at the farm. 

Containing her maternal indignation with difficulty, she reiterated how Blair had become completely besotted with Jim Ellison – way over and above what might be expected in a working partnership –and pointed out that the man hadn’t even bothered to sign Blair’s birthday card, let alone send some sort of greeting on his own account. And Polly, wise and intuitive woman as she was, realised only too quickly how the superficially insignificant but apparently cruel and careless omission would have affected her adopted son in his present needy state. 

Fighting down the righteous fury that bubbled up within her only with difficulty, Polly drew Naomi even further away, saying, “I hear you, Naomi! Truly, I do! But we mustn’t let our own feelings and anger upset Blair any further. It’s not about us, after all, and he’s just beginning to re-discover some sort of equilibrium. 

“Now I’m not suggesting for a moment that we ignore or make light of his pain, but I think he needs to face it in his own way in the first instance. But we’ll be there ready and waiting if and when he needs backup! 

“But I’m also thinking that he won’t want the sort of celebration we had planned for this birthday, my dear. I think we should let him decide what he can bear without pressure from us” 

And although disappointed, Naomi had recognised the wisdom of her old friend’s words, and agreed.  


\-------------------------------  


Thus it was that, when the momentous day arrived, it passed almost without mention. Since Blair had no classes that day, the other members of the household kindly but matter-of-factly presented him with cards and small gifts and warm if brief embraces before leaving him alone to open them in his own time. As she presented Blair with her own gift, Polly had quietly mentioned that there would be a communal dinner that night, but she promised him that it would be a simple affair, and he wasn’t to be anxious that they would spring some awful surprise on him. 

Thanking her sincerely, Blair had taken himself off to his favourite meditation spot on the cliff top for several hours, eventually to return and take his place at the dinner table, warmed by the genuine affection he felt projected by all present. 

During the pleasant and informal meal the unforced and congenial conversation had relaxed Blair to a great extent, so by the time they were chatting desultorily over coffee he had screwed up his nerve enough to make a short speech expressing his gratitude for their understanding. 

Blushing pink with nervous embarrassment, he began. “Thank you all for everything you’ve done for me today, and for taking me into your home. I’m sorry I haven’t exactly been the life and soul of the party, but I want you to know that I truly appreciate your kindness,” and he had paused for a moment while he gathered his failing courage enough to continue. 

“Um, I just wanted to say that, thanks to Polly, Mom, and to all of you here, I have regained much more and far sooner than I ever believed I could have done when I left Cascade. I have a job, and a place where I feel accepted. Friends who treat me as one of the family. I can’t begin to tell you how much it means to me, and I promise I’ll do my best to make the most of it. 

“Thank you..,” and he’d sat down again, shy and trembling slightly with the effort, but comforted by their gentle and sincere murmurs of approbation.  


\---------------------------  


Forcibly dragging himself back to the present, Blair met Casey’s enquiring and slightly worried gaze. 

“Sorry, man. Wool-gathering there for a minute,” and he chuckled self-deprecatingly. “Tell you what, I’ll give your suggestions some thought, I promise, and perhaps we can talk about it tonight? 

“I really am grateful for everyone’s ongoing support, Casey. You know that don’t you? But let me get my class over with first, and we’ll get something sorted tonight, OK?” 

And Casey had to be satisfied with that for the time being, so he nodded amicably, relieved that at least his friend hadn’t reacted too extremely to his proposals. You just never knew these days what could set him off, and they were all only too well aware that despite his best intentions he wasn’t getting any better. 

“You got it, Blair. Have a good afternoon,” and he watched Blair return to his own car with an apparently jaunty backward wave. 

As his friend drove off to teach his college class, Casey sat for a while, no longer hiding the real concern darkening his normally cheerful and open expression. 

No, Blair wasn’t getting better at all. If anything, he was fading away from them a little more each day despite his constant efforts to please them and prove how much he valued his adopted family. 

And there didn’t seem to be anything more they could do to prevent it.  


\--------------------------------  


**Part 2: Expect the unexpected:**  


**Previous May, Cascade PD Major Crimes Unit:**  


Jim Ellison slammed through the bullpen doors, his now customary scowl etched deeply into his handsome features. Yet another potential bust had failed, undeniably due to the mini-zone he had fallen into at the crucial moment, giving the perp time to make his escape. His frustration and fury was undoubtedly sending his blood pressure through the roof, and the muscles of his jaw jumped as he ground his teeth together, so it was hardly surprising that his colleagues all gave him a very wide berth as he crossed to his desk. 

_Goddammit! This is all Sandburg’s fault!_ he thought, still unwilling to take responsibility for the noticeable decline in his performance on the job in the few weeks since his roommate had walked out on him. How was he supposed to work like this? Even paired with Joel, Megan or sometimes Simon as on this occasion, his damned senses were beginning to slip out of control, and he had no idea what to do about it. The grounding he had taken for granted no longer worked without the younger man’s physical presence either at his side or at least at home in the loft, but he resented the hell out of Megan’s frequently-voiced conviction that he needed Blair in order to function adequately both as a cop and as a socially acceptable human being. 

_Fucking little shit, leaving me to deal with this on my own! After all we did for him. Ungrateful little bastard! And why can’t they keep the fucking noise down in here? Can’t hear myself think!_

Grabbing a report lying on his desk, Jim did his best to concentrate on its contents and set aside today’s failure for a while, but he couldn’t help but listen in to the quiet conversation that had resumed once he had taken his seat. He might be nursing a persistent headache, and his hearing, like his other senses, tended to cut in and out at will, but he had no trouble in picking up on Megan’s comments from where she was holding court over at Joel’s desk. 

“Wonder if Sandy’s gotten his card yet? He should have done, seeing as I posted it last week. Hope it cheers the poor little bugger up, huh? Some ‘Big 3-0’ _he’s_ got to look forward to....” 

“I expect he’ll let you know as soon as he does, Megs,” Joel’s deep tones responded. “It was a good idea of yours to get everyone to sign it. Hopefully it’ll show him that we really do miss him.” 

“Yeah, but since You-Know-Who didn’t,” Rafe joined in softly, with a surreptitious jerk of his head towards Jim’s desk, “D’you think we might have done more harm than good?” 

“You got a point there, babe,” mused H, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “But then again, it would be far worse for him if none of us showed we cared, so yeah, you did good Megs.” 

“Thanks, H. And all you guys. I’ll give him a couple more days, then I’ll drop him a line anyway. See how that job’s going. Have to say I was gobsmacked when he wrote that he was teaching again. And anthropology at that.” 

“Well, all I can say is, good for him. At least someone out there’s on his side. Keep us up to date with his progress, hey, Megs?” And with a friendly pat on her shoulder, H gathered up his partner and steered Rafe towards the exit, needing to follow up on some leads on their latest case. 

As they passed Jim’s desk, they left him staring unseeingly at the file in front of him, seething in self-righteous indignation as he digested the short conversation. 

So, the little shit had landed on his feet again had he? And how come Megan and Joel knew and he didn’t? All these weeks they’d been keeping in touch with Sandburg, and hadn’t let on to him. 

_Then again,_ the unwelcome voice of his conscience murmured sneakily, _You made no effort to find out where he went, did you? And it wouldn’t have been that hard. He didn’t exactly steal away in the night after all. You’d already as good as told him to go, so you shouldn’t have been surprised to wake up to an empty loft._

Yeah, but he could have come upstairs to say goodbye properly, not just left that note on the kitchen table. Just because I’d switched the white noise generator on....he argued with himself. _And why the hell should I care? He left me in the lurch, so why would I have bothered to wish him a happy birthday? I don’t care if he’s happy or not!_

But deep down, he knew that wasn’t really true. He did care, and he wasn’t proud of himself for the way he’d reacted to Blair’s attempts to explain his concerns and fears. It still didn’t lessen Jim’s resentment, however, so when Megan crossed over to her desk, Jim jumped up to intercept her. 

“Going behind my back again, Connor?” he hissed, leaning aggressively into her personal space. 

“How come you didn’t tell me how Sandburg’s doing? Don’t you think I have a right to know?” 

Staring at him incredulously, Megan laughed out loud, not in the least intimidated by his Alpha male tactics. 

“Get over yourself, Ellison! After how you treated Sandy, you have no right at all to be kept in the loop. And it’s not as if his whereabouts are a state secret! If you could be arsed, you could easily trace him yourself. And seeing as you treat the rest of us like the dirt under your almighty Sentinel boots, it’s hardly surprising that we’re keeping well away from you unless we have no option. 

“Your choice, mate. And if you think you’re hard done by, well, tough! Life’s a real bitch sometimes, Jimbo, so suck it up!” 

When Jim automatically glanced furtively right and left to see if her comments had been overheard, she sniggered again, although she did lower her voice slightly when she added, “I can’t believe you still think your senses are still some sort of restricted ‘need-to-know’ secret, Jimbo. We _all_ know Sandy didn’t lie; hell, we figured out long before the diss got leaked that you had some sort of edge, and that it was Sandy who made it work for you. Detectives, see? Not difficult to work out, mate. And you’d be surprised how quickly other PD personnel have caught on. Even the die-hards who never gave Sandy the time of day before. 

“What _is_ hard to understand though is how you let him crucify himself for you. What did you expect, or do you really know him so little even after all your years together? 

“Know what, Jimbo? I feel sorry for you for being such a mean and selfish bugger. And I personally am glad that Sandy’s not here anymore to get kicked around by you and Simon. Even though I miss him like crazy. And it wouldn’t hurt for you to at least try to communicate with your fellow cops, mate. You might even learn something first-hand without having to eavesdrop. 

“Now, get out of my face before I kick you in the nuts,” and she stepped around him and flounced the rest of the way to her desk, leaving a truly shell-shocked Ellison watching her departing back. 

As Jim stood there with his jaw hanging open, he was rescued from his stunned preoccupation by a well-known bellow. “Ellison! My office!” And for once glad of the summons, Jim turned stiffly and made his way almost robotically over to Captain Banks’ office, uncomfortably aware of the curious and speculative eyes watching his retreat. 

Closing the office door behind him with excessive care, simply because the urge to slam it was so great, Jim moved inside and took the chair Simon indicated to him, his movements still graceful but reminiscent of a big cat on the prowl. Eyebrows quirked in speculation, Simon considered his best detective and friend for a long moment, fancying that any moment the man might actually growl and hiss at him if provoked any further. 

“OK, Jim. What was that all about then? Do you want to talk about it? And no, that wasn’t a request, Detective,” he continued when Jim’s expression turned mutinous. 

“You know very well that things can’t go on as they are. Sandburg’s only been gone for a few weeks and already you’re every bit as grouchy as you were pre-Blair. Being a loner by choice is all very well, but not when you snap and snarl at your colleagues for no good reason. Sooner or later it’ll come back and bite you in the ass.” 

“What makes you think it hasn’t already,” Jim muttered sub-vocally, lips thinning as his frown deepened even further. Not wanting to get into analysing his altercation with Megan, he chose instead to tackle the other thorny topic which he knew would be on Simon’s mind. 

“Look, sir – Simon. About this afternoon. Before you say anything, yes, I know I zoned. And I know Michaelson used the opportunity to make a break for it. I just wasn’t expecting it, OK? Now I know it’s likely to happen, I’ll just concentrate harder. I’m still perfectly capable of functioning as a Sentinel without Sandburg whatever anyone is saying.” 

Sitting back in his chair, he attempted to look relaxed and confident, although the exasperated look on his captain’s face was all the proof he needed that his act wasn’t working. And when Simon rested his elbows on his desk, fixing Jim with his most commanding stare, and mutely indicating that his subordinate elaborate, Jim sighed in irritated resignation. 

“OK, sir. Yes, I admit it’s harder without Sandburg to ground my senses on, but it’s early days yet. I’ll be fine once I get back into the swing of working alone again. It’s only because he’s been with me for so long. I’m out of practice is all.” 

“I wish I could believe that that’s all it is, myself, Jim. But having actually witnessed it this afternoon, I have to say that I’m worried for you, man. Blair always stressed that there would be certain combinations of circumstances which were likely to cause you to zone – which is why he kept on at me to let him keep riding with you even when you said you didn’t want him along. But when he was with you, such occasions were the rare exception, not the rule. And he always brought you out of them quickly anyway. But pardon me if I’m no Sentinel expert, but this afternoon’s little incident didn’t seem to involve anything particularly ‘exceptional.’ Now correct me if I’m wrong, but I’d like you to explain to me what exactly you zoned on. Convince me there was more to it than it appeared to us bystanders. Or do we have to get you another ‘Guide’ somehow? Or better still, try and get Sandburg back?” 

“No! No one else! And I don’t want him back just so he can let me down again!” Jim responded vehemently. “This afternoon was a mistake. I was tired, OK? Even tame pit bulls get tired,” he added snidely, throwing Simon’s aggravating comment back in his face in an attempt to divert the thread of his boss’ uncomfortably insightful questions. 

“For cases when I think I’ll definitely need to use the senses, I’ll agree to have a partner – preferably Joel, or you, Simon. Because Megan’s too prickly to ride with. We’d end up shooting each other. It’ll be fine. I just need to work on it.” 

Simon stared intently at his stubborn friend, the worry that he felt bleeding into his expression. Softening his tone, he tried for a more conciliatory stance. 

“All right, Jim. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt for another couple weeks. But I’ll be watching carefully, detective. I care for you, Jim, as a friend, not just as a ‘tame pit bull’, whatever you might believe. And here’s another thought. If you find you can’t get a handle on the senses after all, can you turn them off? I’m only asking, because it seems to me that you once told me that a Sentinel will always be a Sentinel if he wants to be. So turning them off’s an option, right?” 

And this time Jim answered honestly, because Simon deserved to know as much as he himself did on that subject. 

“I don’t know, Simon. Really. Yes, I was told that, years ago. But I don’t know exactly how I’m supposed to do it. When I lost the senses before, Blair talked me through getting them back, but I don’t really know why I lost them in the first place. And I don’t really know how or why they came back. It’s not like switching off a light, sad to say,” and he grinned wryly at his old friend. 

“OK, Jim. We’ll leave it for now. Now, it’s getting near finishing time, so how about we go grab a beer? Unless you have other plans?” 

And Jim’s rueful smile gave him the answer to that. If the man had other plans, they wouldn’t include socialising with his colleagues, for sure. That seemed to have ceased very soon after Sandburg’s departure. But he was still relieved when Jim nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah, OK, Simon. Thanks. A couple of beers sound good right now....”  


\-------------------------------  


Later that evening, Jim arrived at 852 Prospect and made his way upstairs to #307. The pleasant buzz from the beers and Simon’s company was beginning to wear off, and when he pushed open the door to the loft he tried not to notice the chill sterility of the place; so different from the cosy home it had become when Blair was living there. Cold and resentful anger at the younger man’s perceived treachery began to rise in him yet again, and he strode over to the refrigerator to grab another beer that he really didn’t need if he was to be fully fit for work the next day. 

But perhaps it didn’t matter if he wasn’t, he thought with no little self-pity. If he was brutally honest with himself, he wasn’t functioning well at all these days, despite his confidant declarations to Simon. And if he was feeling like this already, who knew what lay in store for him down the line? 

No! He wasn’t going there. He didn’t believe that he needed Sandburg to be whole in any sense of the word, and what a sad pun _that_ was. He couldn’t afford to believe it, because he sure as hell wasn’t going to seek the other man out. Sandburg had chosen to leave him – to run away and throw away nearly four years of a relationship closer than anything Jim had ever had before, including his ill-fated marriage to Carolyn. 

Choosing to wallow in his alcohol-induced melancholia for a while, Jim threw himself down on the sofa and took a determined swig from the cold bottle in his hand. And as he sat, he replayed part of the conversation he had had with Simon earlier that evening. The part that had triggered his dismal mood once again.  


\-----------------------  


After some companionable general conversation, chatting about Daryl’s latest exploits, Jags games and other pleasant but inconsequential topics, Simon collected their second beer, and fixed Jim with a more serious expression. 

“OK, Jim. I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but isn’t it about time we discussed what happened after that badge offer? After all, it wasn’t just you who was affected by Sandburg’s choice. I mean, after all that tap-dancing I did to try and secure the offer in the first place, I’d at least like to know what his reasons were for turning it down. All I got was a polite but very brief note saying ‘Thanks, but no thanks’ and wishing me a good life!” 

Expression darkening again, Jim put down his beer and met Simon’s quizzical gaze. After a strained pause, he eventually sighed deeply, and began. 

“You’re right, Simon. I don’t want to talk about it, but you have a point. I mean, I realise it can’t have been easy to go back to the Chief and tell him it was a wasted effort, I’m sure.” 

“Well, as to that,” Simon interjected somewhat ruefully, “Actually it was easier than you think. The Chief told me he thought Sandburg had more sense than either of us thinking it would work, and he for one was quite relieved it wasn’t going to happen. He said he’d been thinking seriously about it ever since I got his agreement, and was on the point of withdrawing the offer anyway. 

“But what did Blair say about it? And why did he have to leave so hurriedly? I can’t believe he’d run out on you after everything you two’ve been through without good reason.” 

Jim looked down at his hands where they lay clasped on the table in front of him. This was going to be hard, but his boss deserved to know, seeing as he was having to deal with the fall-out on a day-to-day basis the same as Jim; from a work point of view, at least. 

“Blair was upset. Angry because I hadn’t been talking to him much recently, and springing something like that on him really shocked him. He said he appreciated the offer, and was really grateful to find that he still had friends in the department, but he insisted he could never be accepted as a cop by the rest of the PD. Even if he could tough out the academy, he insisted that it wouldn’t do any good. For everyone to believe his press conference, he had to at least look as if we had gone our separate ways. How could anyone believe I’d work alongside someone who’d supposedly shafted me for money and fame? And why would I allow him to stay on in the loft? Yada, yada. 

“And then he said that he’d never have any credibility as a detective, because he could never get up on the witness stand. He said the Defence Attorneys would have a field day with his self-proclaimed fraudulent act. And I guess in retrospect I understand that everything he said was true. 

“But then things got heated. I called him some things. Accused him of betraying me again. I didn’t give him the chance to explain the alternatives he had been trying to come up with. 

“All I could see was that he was going to run away and leave me to cope with the fall-out on my own. 

“And I ended up by saying I’d expect nothing more from an ungrateful neo-hippy witchdoctor punk even after all I’d done for him. And I told him to get out of my sight, and if I never saw him again, it’d be too soon. So he went...,” and Jim tailed off into miserable silence. 

“Well, shit, Jim. No wonder he left. You didn’t pull any punches, did you? And it’s not like it was the first time either. You’ve been pretty cruel to that boy over the last few months, and I don’t just mean over the Alex business. You wanted me to pull his pass, and you told him he wasn’t to be trusted how many times? Hell, Jim, you’re my friend, but you never made it easy on him did you?” 

“Hey, it wasn’t just me! He screwed up too! He should have told me about finding her, and he should have kept my name out of that first draft of his paper. How could he not have known it was an accident waiting to happen?” Jim responded angrily, puffing up in self-righteous indignation. 

“Calm down, my friend,” murmured Simon, clasping Jim’s forearm. “We’re upsetting the natives,” and he jerked his head over towards the crowded bar where several inquisitive faces were turned towards them, attracted by the raised voices. 

As Jim fought to control his temper, Simon continued relentlessly. 

“I know you don’t want to hear it, Jim, but I think I’m probably the only one who could get away with saying this. Are you really sure he didn’t try and tell you about Alex? And if you were so mad with him, why did you get so upset when he died? And more to the point, why _did_ you bring him back? Because after the first rush of relief was over, you certainly didn’t seem that glad to have him still hanging around. And as for Mexico, well, I still don’t understand everything that went on there, for sure, but Blair was never the same after that.” 

And there really wasn’t anything to say in reply. Simon’s questions had taken the wind out of Jim’s sails for sure, and he was left facing up to a good few home truths that he wasn’t ready to deal with. 

Realising that pursuing the topic was impossible for the moment, and that Jim had been given more than enough to think about for now, Simon sat back and did his best to change the subject and lighten up the mood, but with limited success. By the time they had finished their drinks, Jim was ready to go, needing to do some solitary reflection, and where better to do it than his lonely loft apartment?  


\-----------------------  


**Later that night, the loft:**  


By the time Jim dragged himself off to bed, he was feeling decidedly the worse for wear. He had had another beer after finishing the first in record time, and his temper wasn’t any the better for it. However, he had come to some – albeit reluctant – conclusions, and he really didn’t want to have to do any more self-analysis for today. 

The first thing he had been forced to recognise was that Sandburg had actually tried to tell him about meeting Alex, but Jim had been acting very territorially at the time, and was more concerned with seeing off intruders than listening to yet another of Blair’s tales of sexual prowess. And to be honest, having a gun shoved into his face probably didn’t encourage Sandburg to push the matter either. 

Jim also felt concerned now that he hadn’t told his Guide about the vision where Jim had killed Blair’s wolf. Maybe if he had, Blair could have come up with a rational explanation, wouldn’t have been thrown out of the loft, and wouldn’t have ended up in the fountain. 

And Jim had the decency to feel deeply ashamed and guilty for that. 

As far as the merge was concerned, Jim was still repressing whatever deeper meaning that might have, only grateful that it had worked, and that he had managed to bring his partner back. He still wasn’t comfortable with the possible consequences. He just knew that, as a cop, and as a tribal protector, he could have done no less for a man who had done so much for him. And he was in no way ready to dwell on his deeper emotions regarding what Sandburg’s presence meant to him yet. 

And as for the business with Alex in Mexico, well, sure, he felt bad about it. And Blair must have been upset at his Sentinel’s behaviour. But Jim had been only too grateful to latch on to Blair’s tentatively-offered explanation of some primitive genetic imperative to reproduce to account for his irrational and unthinking lust, and again, he wasn’t ready to look any further. 

But despite all these revelations, Jim was still mad at Sandburg. Mostly because of that damned paper. He wished to hell he’d never agreed to let Blair write about him, even though he had needed the guy’s help so desperately. That paper had hung over them – come between them – and poisoned everything as far as Jim was concerned. And Blair should have known better. Should have realised that his interfering mother could have accessed his files. Should have protected them, and Jim’s anonymity better. 

And for that oversight, Jim found it so hard to forgive. Almost as hard as Blair leaving him.... 

Falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, it seemed like merely seconds before Jim was transported to the blue jungle of his dream-visions.  


\-----------------------------  


With a sinking feeling, Jim gazed around him, knowing that whatever had brought him here boded trouble and he was feeling resentful enough as it was. Sure enough, he was dressed as he usually was in this place, in camo pants, undershirt, boots, and bandana. And the familiar weight of his native-style crossbow pulled at his shoulder. 

And as expected, the well-loved figure of Incacha motioned to him from across the blue-tinted jungle clearing. 

With a gentle smile, the shaman reached up and placed his hands on Jim’s shoulders, his dark eyes warm and wise, but with a deep sorrow lurking in their depths. 

“It is good to see you, Enqueri, as always. But I would wish that it was under different circumstances. I had hoped that the next time you came to see me you would have been in the company of your bonded Guide and true shaman. Why have you denied your destiny again?” 

Jim’s own welcoming grin was immediately marred by a frown at his old friend’s words, and he stiffened in reaction. 

“I don’t understand, Incacha. I mean, I know you always said that I’d find my true Guide in the Great City; and I suppose I did; but I have no need to bond. I don’t want or need him to define my existence!” 

Shaking his head at his erstwhile student’s intransigence, Incacha pursed his lips and studied Jim for a long moment, head on one side, before sinking to the ground cross-legged, indicating to Jim that he follow suit. 

“Have you forgotten all that I tried to teach you, Enqueri? Or did you simply hope that it would all go away once you returned to the Great City and your old life? Listen now, and listen well, because it is not only your life that is in danger. A far greater peril threatens your Guide every day you deny him and reject your bond. 

“It is true that there was a time when you could have denied your Guide. A time when, although deeply disappointing, you might both have gone your separate ways. If that had happened, neither of you would have reached your true potential, but it is possible that you could have led satisfactory enough lives for all that. 

“But you chose to merge with the Young Wolf. You couldn’t let him die, so you called him back. And by doing so, you set an inevitable train of events in motion, which should have culminated in a full bond. A life-bond which joined you as a true Sentinel and Guide pair. Soulmates. Two souls joined as one, and two halves of the whole. 

“But because you refused to follow through with your promise, denied him your love and acceptance, you are both doomed to suffer until either you complete the bond or premature death claims you. 

“For you, Enqueri, there is no longer the option of turning off your senses even if you should so wish. You will continue to function, after a fashion, until your control has slipped so far out of your reach that your chosen career is no longer tenable. If you should zone in the midst of a fight you will be left defenceless. Likewise it could lead to the deaths of your workmates, or even innocent bystanders. Could you live with that, Sentinel? Could you bear the knowledge that you failed to protect your tribe? 

“True, you may still live out your natural life in another, more peaceful and solitary environment, but anything more than the most basic stimulation will continue to cause great suffering. 

“Your Guide, on the other hand, has a far worse fate awaiting him. The merge ignited his deepest hopes and desires and opened up his mind in preparation for you to enter and complete the bond. It can no longer be closed again. Without your support he is now vulnerable physically and mentally, and will soon fade away. His strength is now centred in his ability to guide and care for his chosen Sentinel, and without that goal to enrich and maintain his life-force, his existence is weakened and failing as we speak. 

“Rejected Guides such as he sometimes choose to end their own lives once their will to live has diminished beyond bearing, but even if he is too strong to take that path, he will never thrive again. 

“Think hard, Enqueri. Choose carefully, because at least two lives depend on your decision.” 

Before a thoroughly stunned Jim could begin to formulate a response of any kind, the jungle faded away once more, and he shot up in bed, wringing wet with the sweat of fear and anguish.  


\--------------------------  


_Well, fuck! So it’s all my fault! I fucking don’t think so!_ and Jim punched his pillow in aggravation. _So Incacha reckons I’ve set this whole thing in motion, does he? What about Sandburg’s part in this? If it was so important that we do this bonding thing, why did he run? Sorry, Incacha, but I just can’t accept this. I can’t believe that ‘destiny’ is pre-ordained. What happened to freedom of choice?_

Controlling his rising fury with a gargantuan effort, Jim settled back against his pillows, still angry, but prepared to recall and examine everything the vision had told him, albeit with bad grace. 

_OK, right. What would Sandburg tell me to do? Find my centre, huh? Worth a try, I guess..._ , and Jim lay back, staring up at the skylight and working on slowing his breathing down. After a few minutes, he actually did feel much calmer; enough at least to try to analyse his reactions to Incacha’s words. 

In all honesty, he knew deep down that he’d acted like a self-centred jerk on several occasions where Blair was concerned, but because the younger man had always ‘let it go’ and apparently understood and forgiven him every time, Jim realised with a pang that he’d come to rely on his ex-partner’s generosity of spirit, and it had come as a severe shock when the moment had arrived when Blair couldn’t take any more. The niggling little voice inside him reiterated endlessly that he’d been so focussed on controlling his emerging senses and not being seen as a freak that he had had little interest in Sandburg’s own feelings and problems outside of his usefulness as a Guide and his ever-present friendship and backup. Hell, he couldn’t ever remember taking the time to make a simple enquiry as to how the young man’s day at Rainier had gone. It was always about Jim and his job as a cop. Or about the senses, which was really one and the same as far as the Sentinel was concerned. 

Sure, he’d felt a growing protectiveness towards the younger man as their working partnership developed into a real friendship. He’d even taken him into his own home – although not without some serious begging on Sandburg’s part – but had he truly ever tried to make the grad student feel really welcome? A permanent fixture in Jim’s life rather than a convenience, however much appreciated? 

And he came to the reluctant conclusion that no, he really hadn’t. He had used his conviction that Blair ‘didn’t do commitment’ as an excuse to keep him at just enough distance to be able to cut him adrift not once, but twice. But like Megan had snapped only a couple of days ago in the bullpen, what was four years’ worth of loyalty if it wasn’t ‘commitment’? 

By this time, Jim was feeling both guilty and ashamed of his behaviour, and was beginning to realise just how his friends and colleagues might see him. And it wasn’t in a very complimentary way for certain. 

On the other hand, like Sandburg had always said, Jim was a Sentinel, not Superman, so yes, he had made mistakes. And he was entitled to feel resentful at the way that everyone from Connor, Simon, Joel and his other colleagues in the MCU through to Incacha all seemed to lay the blame squarely on his shoulders. 

Well, enough was enough. Yes, he would admit to acting like a jerk, and taking out his irritation and anxieties on Blair. But it wasn’t all his doing, and he wasn’t at the stage yet where he was ready to accept or act on Incacha’s words of warning. The assertion that he was now responsible for Sandburg’s well-being was simply too much to absorb, and if that was a form of denial, then so be it. For now Jim intended to concentrate on managing his own life. He would consider the other aspects of the sombre prediction when he felt ready, and not before.  


\-------------------------------  


**Part 3: Let not your heart be broken:**  


**Present: MCU bullpen, Cascade, WA:**  


As the months passed following Incacha’s prophecy, time hadn’t dealt kindly with the struggling Sentinel, although, had he but known it, he had suffered far less than his Guide. Physically, Jim was as buff and fit as ever, having worked doubly hard at the gym to stay that way. He figured that if he could stay in the peak of condition, he would be better able to deal with whatever life and his unruly senses threw at him, if it was indeed his lot to remain alone and unguided. He had also worked – even harder, truth be told – to regain and maintain a modicum of civility. At least enough to be able to work with his colleagues in the bullpen and in the field without creating too much unnecessary antipathy. 

However, the fact that his senses were undoubtedly becoming progressively more erratic and harder to manage inevitably wore on his patience and self-control such that he had to eschew most activities outside of the workplace simply because he found himself incapable of even pretending to observe the social niceties for any length of time. And eating out could be a minefield if his sense of taste was cutting in and out, so was best avoided. 

His social life was therefore reduced to regular work-outs at the gym, and the occasional beer or Jags game with Simon; otherwise it was long and lonely nights alone at the loft with nothing but his dismal thoughts and endless TV re-runs as company. 

And eventually it became too much. 

Staring at his pristine but bleak and unwelcoming walls, he finally gave in. He finally steeled himself to wonder what had become of the man who had meant so much to him, and begin to worry about whether his vision had really had any truth in it. 

And deep within himself, he knew. He knew that Blair was suffering too, and that Incacha had the right of it. 

The hard part was deciding what exactly he could do about it. 

Jim had never considered himself a coward, and had bitterly resented Blair’s references to ‘fear-based responses’ in that contentious first chapter of his paper. And he knew for a fact that later Blair had declared that Jim was the bravest man Blair had ever met. But that’s not how he felt right now. 

Right now, he felt like a rat-bastard. A cowardly rat-bastard who had let his friend and Guide crucify himself on national TV for the sake of his Sentinel. For the _love_ of his Sentinel. 

And how the hell was Jim going to repay him for that – or fix the damage done? 

But as it happened, Fate, or Destiny if you will, was about to decide for him. 

For the last few weeks, Jim had diffidently approached Megan and Joel for information about Blair. He was still unable to bring himself to actually contact the man, unwilling to face the pain of being either rebuffed or ignored. Yet Jim still yearned for news of his erstwhile Guide, hoping that it would be good – up-beat at least – and thus relieve Jim of the nagging worry that he should be actively seeking Sandburg. 

Megan still couldn’t understand why Jim didn’t try to contact her beloved Sandy himself, but she recognised that Jim truly did want to be kept in the loop after all, so she had copied him in on Blair’s infrequent emails. 

And for a while it had worked – had reassured Jim that all was well, and that Blair was living a happy and fulfilled life in Oregon. 

But soon he realised that he was just deluding himself. The tone of the messages, although chatty and informative, were woefully lacking in real information about the younger man’s actual condition. Sandburgian ‘obfuscation’ was alive and well and living in Newport, OR. And it didn’t take Sentinel sense to work it out. 

Only yesterday, Megan had pulled him aside and demanded a few minutes’ of his time to talk about ‘Sandy.’ The most recent email had been much the same as always – asking how everyone was doing (especially Jim) - and filled with witty and detailed information about life in Blair’s new environment. 

But Megan had also received an email from Naomi with whom she had established a more clandestine correspondence, dated the same day. And its contents were way more worrying. 

Now Naomi had been in contact with Megan ever since Blair had arrived in Newport, deciding that she needed to ‘fill in the gaps’ as far as her son was concerned, because she knew that Megan cared deeply about what happened to him. For the most part, she had expressed her concern, but admitted that there was nothing specific she could put her finger on. Blair was doing his utmost to fit in with the small community they were staying with, and superficially was doing a fine job of it, accomplished observer and actor as he was. But she was worried for his mental and physical health, to the extent that she was determined to stay in Newport for as long as it took for Blair to recover. This time there would be no free-and-easy travelling to distant destinations for self-gratification. This time she knew she had to be there for her son, for however long it took. 

After reading and absorbing both messages, Jim had looked up and met Megan’s worried gaze. 

“It’s not good, is it? I had hoped that Blair had found a life – a real home – away from me and my ingratitude. But it’s not true, is it? You realise as well as I do that he’s not thriving. But for the life of me, I’m not sure how to go about setting it right. Whether he’d even accept or welcome my interference.” 

And that’s where Fate stepped in.  


\---------------------------------  


**Two days later, Simon’s office:**  


“Jeez, Jim, you look terrible! Are you sure you didn’t get hurt as well?” Simon’s worried question was loud enough to make Jim wince in pain before his captain lowered his tone, his face apologetic as he continued softly, “Sorry, Jim. Should know better by now. But aren’t those dial things working at all now? Guess not, huh?” he answered himself as the other man sank down in the chair opposite with a moan of distress. 

Controlling his impatience – and his anxiety - Simon simply poured two mugs of coffee from his personal stash, and set them down, waiting for some sign that Jim had wrestled his spiking senses back under some sort of control. And wrestled with his own guilt for allowing Jim talk him into letting him go out in the field again against Simon’s better judgement when the man was so obviously unable to cut it anymore. 

Although Jim had made every effort to repress his senses which had become increasingly erratic; as Incacha had predicted, he had been unable to actually turn them off, and he had been caught out with increasing frequency lately. Zone-outs were occurring so often now that Jim’s colleagues had grown wary of being partnered with him, and now the situation had come to a head.   


\----------------------------  


Whilst out on a routine trip to pursue a couple of leads on a recent series of drug store heists, the circumstances had quickly turned dangerous when Jim had stumbled upon a robbery actually going down. He had called for backup, which in this case turned out to be Henri and Rafe who were the nearest to the scene. 

However, instead of waiting for them to arrive, he instinctively extended his sight and hearing, which for once actually cooperated for a few precious minutes. Ascertaining that the robbers were armed, dangerous and threatening both the pharmacist and a couple of customers, he decided to go in on his own through a side entrance. 

And that’s when everything went pear-shaped. 

As Henri pulled up behind Jim’s truck, Rafe spotted the other man creeping around the side of the building. 

“Shit! Ellison’s going in! Call it in, H, and I’ll go and back him up. God knows why he has to do the damned Lone Ranger thing now!” 

As he slid out of the car, H replied urgently, “You watch yourself, babe! I’ll be right behind you!” and he reached for his cell phone to do as his partner requested. 

Call made, H looked anxiously towards where his partner was almost caught up to Ellison, and that’s when disaster struck. As Jim had been carefully sliding through the side door, a beam of sunlight had struck a display of crystals, and Jim instantly zoned on the intricate prismatic reflections. Freezing in the doorway, he was in the direct line of fire from the nearest robber, who swung around reflexively to shoot the intruder. Acting on instinct, Rafe threw himself in front of the zoned man, pushing him out of the way – and took two bullets in the back for his trouble. 

Panicking, the robbers had fled through the front doors, right into the arms of the newly-arrived uniformed officers who quickly took them into custody. Meanwhile, a desperately worried H ran into the shop, to find Jim bending over his downed partner, a look of utter despair on his face. 

“He’ll be OK, H. The Kevlar saved him. But he’s going to be sore. And it’s all my fault. I can’t do this anymore. The next time I could get someone killed. If Rafe hadn’t worn the vest today he wouldn’t have stood a chance. I’m done...,” and he sat back on his haunches, hands scrubbing at the lines of distress etched on his face. 

H looked up from gently rubbing his partner’s arm as the young man roused, groaning in discomfort. Face clouded with an unaccustomed harshness, he responded, his tone reflecting both anger and compassion. 

“You got that right, Ellison. You can’t go on like this. You’re a danger to us all now, and it’s just dumb luck that Rafe wore his vest. You know how he hates the thing – thinks it spoils the hang of his suit! Look, I’ll take care of him. Just get back to the PD and see the Captain, OK?” 

Nodding in resigned acquiescence, Jim stumbled to his feet and walked away.  


\--------------------------  


Back in Simon’s office, Jim finally raised pained eyes to meet Simon’s concerned gaze. 

“Sorry about that, sir. I think I’ve just about got them dialled down as low as I can. I guess you want a full explanation about what happened? By the way, have you heard how Rafe’s doing?” 

“He’s doing OK, Jim. H called just before you arrived. The paramedics on the scene checked him over, and he’s got some pretty good bruising. Possible cracked rib also, so H’s taking him to the ER for an X-ray to be sure, but he’s otherwise fine. If you discount his bitching about ruining a perfectly good pair of pants, that is. 

“But both you and I know it could have been fatal. What were you thinking, Jim? You haven’t even tried to use your senses recently. Why this time?” 

And Jim sighed deeply before answering. “I honestly don’t know, Simon. Really. It was like I forgot myself for a moment. Forgot I didn’t have Blair at my back. I’ve been thinking about him more and more lately, and I think it’s becoming a sort of obsession. 

“Look, I know you don’t like the ‘Sentinel voodoo shit’, but I was told only a few weeks after Sandburg left that I needed to go and find him if I ever wanted to function properly as a Sentinel again.” 

“Told by whom, Jim?” Simon asked gently, expression bemused. “Did you go see some shrink or other that you didn’t tell me about?” 

“No Simon,” Jim replied with a wry half-grin, picturing Incacha in his mind. “Not a shrink, but a kind of witchdoctor if you like. A shaman - the sort Sandburg’s supposed to be.” 

“OK, TMI, Jim. So, if I can believe it, you’ve finally realised that you two were meant to be together. He really is your true Guide, like Brackett claimed. But if you were to track him down, would he come back?” 

“I don’t know,” Jim sighed. “From what I understand, he has no choice if he wants to survive, and I know this is way outside of your comfort zone, but I’ve come to believe it’s true. We need each other; have done since I brought him back at the fountain. But I was too scared to accept it, so I pushed him away. He already had an explanation for my reactions; called them ‘fear-based responses’, and I was totally pissed off with him for that. 

“But he was right all along. I was afraid. I was afraid of needing him to live my life to the full. Afraid of being reliant on one person, and a long-haired hippy grad student at that. And I really didn’t want to believe that he needs me as much as I need him. But I do believe it now. If he’s even half as bad off as Megan thinks he is, I have to go and do something about it. 

“And seeing as I’m worse than useless as cop right now, I need to ask for some personal leave to try and make things right,” and he looked up again to meet his captain’s gaze, seeing both resignation and sympathy in the older man’s dark eyes. 

“OK, Jim. You’re right, I do find it hard to believe, and if it were anyone else I’d be laughing as I kicked their butt out of the door. But I’ve seen too much over the last few years to write you off as a con-man or a gullible fool, any more than I can think of Blair as a liar and a fraud. Get your report typed up, and take however long you need. I want my best team back. 

“Go on, get out of here. But let me know how things go when you find him?” 

“You got it, Simon,” and Jim offered him a wan smile as he rose and left the office.  


\------------------------------  


**Newport, OR:**  


Even as Jim was making preparations for his upcoming trip, Blair was on his way back to the farm. Classes over, he knew he had to live up to his promise to Casey to discuss the possibility of performing in the following night’s folk concert, and what sort of birthday celebrations he could bear. He felt guilty on both counts, because he really wanted to do neither, but he recognised that his ‘family’ cared deeply for him, and it was only fair that he at least appeared to be willing to participate in something other than teaching, meditating and household chores. 

Feeling tired to the bone, he parked up the Volvo and took a few moments to centre himself before going inside. And as he sat there, he used the opportunity to study his temporary haven as if through fresh eyes, knowing that the attempt at objectivity would undoubtedly help him to feel suitably grateful if not physically better. 

The extended property had been divided into three self-contained apartments to provide privacy when required, with Polly and Casey inhabiting the larger, original house. This section also contained the three guest rooms, two of which Blair and Naomi were presently using, and the largest kitchen and lounge areas, so that all members of the small community could enjoy communal dinners and gatherings when appropriate. Polly had been one of the original members, and was happy to act as unofficial ‘den Mom’ or guest house manager as needed. 

She was a single parent, but unlike Naomi, who professed ignorance, Polly knew very well who had fathered Casey. And when said partner, who turned out to be an abusive alcoholic, raised his hand to her baby for the first and only time, she threw him out on his ear and devoted herself to her beloved child and her group of friends. 

Although many had come and gone over the years, a core of like-minded people had stayed on, happy to maintain their extended ‘family’ and use their learned skills to benefit both their group and the community at large. 

The slightly newer wing of the house was divided into two, the first apartment housing Nina and Lucy. Again original members, the pair had been together now for nearly thirty years, and were devoted to each other. Both skilled metalworkers, they created beautiful individual pieces of jewellery in one of the outbuildings which had been converted into a workshop, and which were sold both on-line and through Polly’s and several other local shops. 

The second, slightly larger apartment housed Andy, yet another original member, who was a self-taught and very competent glass-blower, and used another of the converted outbuildings. His partner, Lottie, had moved in more recently, around ten years ago, and she jokingly referred to herself as the ‘bad outside influence.’ 

When Blair had questioned her about it, she had laughed and hugged him unaffectedly. 

“It’s because I’m the only one who has a mundane ‘day job’, honey. I work in IT doing desktop publishing, marketing and research for several local businesses. But it pays well, and the up-side is that I can use my skills to create and run websites for all the other guys here for free. And I love it here, so I’m quite content.” 

And each and every one had taken Blair and Naomi to their hearts long ago, so it came naturally to them to want to help the broken young man in any way they could. 

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Blair grabbed his bookbag and climbed out of the Volvo, trying to inject a little energy into his demeanour as he entered the kitchen to find everyone seated there already, their faces warm and welcoming as they turned to greet him. 

Naomi sprang to her feet and rushed over to him – correction, floated. Naomi never ‘rushed’ like anyone else as far as Blair knew. He grinned self-consciously as she kissed his cheek, and then looked deeply into his eyes, head tilted slightly to one side as she studied him intently. 

“Hello, Sweetie. You look so tired. Have you been overdoing it with your class again?” and she carded her hand gently through the unruly curls that fell forward over his forehead. 

“I’m fine, Mom,” he murmured, blushing pink in embarrassment. “Just a bit winded is all. Hurrying to get back to you lot!” he added with a cheeky grin in an attempt to distract her – and the rest of his friends. It might have worked once, but he was ruefully aware that he no longer had the energy or bounce to carry it off. Still, it was worth a try, and it was force of habit after all. Blair had never liked being the centre of attention unless he chose to be, or had good reason. It was, after all, what made him such a successful anthropologist and observer. 

Noting the stubborn glint that lurked deep in her son’s deep blue gaze, Naomi sighed in fond exasperation as she took the bookbag out of his hand and led him to the table. 

“Whatever you say, Sweetie,” she answered. “Now, would you like a drink of something before we start interrogating you?” she continued, with a wicked gleam in her own eyes. 

And Blair had to chuckle in response as he said, “Yeah, Mom. Tea would be great,” and he sat down in the vacant seat next to Polly, accepting her warm hug with pleasure, and resigning himself to an evening of discussion.  


\-----------------------------  


As Blair was undergoing his gentle, if persistent, ‘interrogation’, Jim was doing his own bit of gentle interrogation as he prepared to leave the bullpen for his extended leave. 

“Megan, look. I need to know Blair’s exact address. I know he’s in Oregon – you’ve told me that yourself. But I really need his address and I don’t want to waste any more time trying to find it for myself. I also don’t want to alert him to the fact that I’m looking for him, for a very good reason. I can’t afford to let him run away from me, Megan. Whether you believe me or not, we need to reconnect. Not just for me, but for him too. I wish I could explain better, but I’m not completely sure of the details myself. 

“Just, please believe me, just this once. I swear I won’t hurt him. I can’t hurt him – not again. Not unless I want to hurt myself.” 

Megan exchanged glances with Joel, who was unashamedly listening in to the conversation. 

“What do you think, Joel? Should we tell him? I don’t know. I’m really scared for Blair, but I’m more scared that I could be buggering up every hope he has just because I don’t trust Jimbo. What’ll we do?” 

And Joel had squeezed her arm gently. “We tell him, Megs. Blair was his partner for years before you met him, and I truly believe that their relationship runs deep. Far deeper than you might think. 

“Now you know I love that boy. He’s the son I never had. But I want him to have this chance to reconnect with Jim. For good or ill, they both need this.” 

So they told him.  


\--------------------------  


Back at the farm, Blair was wilting rapidly, but had actually enjoyed the evening’s conversation with his friends. The cheerful discussion had ranged far beyond the original purpose of sounding out Blair’s opinions on how he’d like to celebrate his birthday, and the many and varied topics had stimulated his interest well beyond his physical capacity to reciprocate fully, but he had appreciated the diversion anyway. Polly had provided them all with an impromptu buffet-style supper, and the others had made short of both finishing off her tasty food and the clear up afterwards, all with the easy familiarity of old friends. 

Eventually, however, Blair knew he had to excuse himself if he wasn’t to fall asleep where he sat, so he roused himself enough to wish them all goodnight. 

“Thanks for the company, guys, and for the supper, Polly. It’s been great, but I need my sleep. Sorry to wimp out on you like this...,” and he offered them a wan smile. 

“That’s OK, honey,” Polly replied. “I’m just glad you felt well enough to put up with us for so long. I know we can be a bit overpowering _en masse_. But thank you for agreeing to perform at the festival tomorrow. Just a song will be absolutely fine, and I’ll make sure it’s early on so you don’t have to hang around any longer than you want. As you know, we’re all very flexible and easy-going. 

“And we’re quite happy to keep your birthday ‘in house’ again, Blair. We all enjoyed the dinner last year, but if between now and then you think of something else you’d rather do, just say so. And we _won’t_ be offended if it doesn’t include us, either!” and the others all nodded agreeably and murmured their assent. 

“Sleep well, dear, and see you in the morning,” and she got up and hugged him as Naomi also made as if to leave. 

With a fond smile, Blair held up a hand, saying, “It’s OK, Mom. I’m a big boy now, and can see myself off to bed. You stay here and enjoy the company,” and kissing her cheek, he turned and left the room, shoulders sagging in exhaustion as soon as he was out of their line of sight.  


\-------------------------  


As Blair made his weary way up to bed, he was unaware of the change in atmosphere in the room behind him. Worry now clouded the faces of all present, with Lucy being the first to voice her concerns. Clutching Nina’s hand tightly, she murmured, “He looks awful, Naomi! Do you think you can get him to visit the doctor again?” 

And Naomi sighed deeply as she turned haunted eyes on her friend. “I can try, Lucy, dear. But you know how stubborn he is! He says that nothing untoward turned up during his routine medical for the college last month, and is sure it’s just one of those obscure viruses that’s taking its own good time to clear up. I’d really like to believe that, but it’s been over a year now, and he looks like he’s aged ten years! You all know he meditates regularly, and Dr Swenson is more than happy with his teaching and schoolwork, but you remember how he used to be! How he used to sparkle with enthusiasm over everything! 

“I want my baby back...,” and her eyes filled with tears as she covered her trembling lips with one hand. 

Jumping to her feet, Polly threw a comforting arm around Naomi’s shaking shoulders. 

“I know, love, I know. So do we all! But unless Blair himself wants it, I don’t know what else we can do except be here for him. I truly believe that all his troubles stem from the breakup with Detective Ellison. I don’t know how or why that should be, but we all knew Ellison was Blair’s Sentinel, and perhaps the two of them are supposed to be more closely connected than we mere ordinary mortals can comprehend. 

“But without Ellison here to prove it one way or the other, I don’t know what else we can do.” 

“I think you’re right, Mom,” mused Casey, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I mean, we all know Blair is a truly open-minded person where love is concerned. He always listened to you, Naomi, when you taught him – quite rightly – that it’s the person not the package that’s important. So it wouldn’t come as any surprise to find out that Blair had fallen in love with Jim the man as opposed to Jim his study subject. 

“And if Ellison had reacted badly, or rejected Blair, at the very least the kid’d be broken-hearted and disillusioned. Blair’s love is always given unreservedly, so when the recipient rebuffs him, it hurts him deeply, especially if it’s someone as important to Blair as his Sentinel. And who knows if the ongoing physical debility is a manifestation of that? Even if it were psychosomatic, it’s no less worrying or real for all that. 

“What I’d really like to do is get that ungrateful bastard right here, so we could ask him face-to-face. And then ask him what he’s going to do about it!” 

His listeners all expressed their agreement; little knowing that Casey’s wish was shortly to be granted. 

The gathering broke up shortly afterwards, but before she made her way up to her room, Naomi quietly took Casey aside. 

“What you said about Blair is true. He does love unconditionally, and he is totally in tune with the idea that love can come in many forms. I often thought that perhaps the two of you? Well, you always got on so well, and I couldn’t help but notice the way you looked at him. Still do, I believe. And you care for him so much...” 

Offering her a sad smile, Casey replied, his eyes slightly unfocussed and inward-looking as he spoke. 

“You’re right in one sense, Naomi. I always did love Blair, and I also hoped he would love me the same way. But it wasn’t to be. I mean, yes he does love me as a friend, and I treasure his affection, but it’s not the way I want it. The two of us, together. And no, he doesn’t know. I couldn’t do that to him, knowing that he was always going to be chasing after his Holy Grail. His ‘Sentinel’. It would upset him to know that I was pining after him, so I’ve just accepted the fact that we’re good friends, and always will be. 

“Doesn’t mean to say I can’t hope, though. And I meant it about getting Ellison here. If he can’t or won’t do right by Blair, I want first shot at him! And don’t tell Mom. She’s as much a pacifist as you are!” 

Squeezing his arm consolingly, Naomi replied, her eyes narrowed. “Thank you for explaining how you feel, Casey. I appreciate it, and I know Blair loves you. And if it helps, I too wish it could have been different between you two. If Blair and I had ever put down roots, it would be here. And perhaps I should put the blame on my wanderlust that it didn’t happen years ago. I’ve caused so much harm to Blair in so many ways, all the time convinced I was doing the right thing. I was so very wrong. But I’m not the only one. 

“So don’t think I’m so much of a pacifist that **I** won’t want to take my best shot at Jim Ellison also!” 

And sharing a rueful chuckle, they retired for the night, undoubtedly to continue to ponder the conundrum that was Sentinel and Guide.  


\------------------------------  


The following morning dawned bright and clear, lending hope to the thought that the Oregon Spring had arrived at last. As it was a Saturday, Blair had no classes, so could indulge in a bit of a lie-in since the weekends tended to be much more leisurely in terms of communal chores. Having said that, although most members of the ‘family’ took the opportunity of a little personal time to themselves, Polly still opened her shop at Nye Beach on Saturdays for a few hours. She was grateful for Naomi’s help in staffing it, especially as the first trickle of tourists was beginning to appear. 

Knowing that there was no need to rush, yet Blair felt much more optimistic, and therefore energised, than he had for some time now. Slightly puzzled, but relieved nonetheless, he sat up in bed and stretched before making his way to the en suite shower room, idly mulling over the possible reasons for his lightened mood. 

As he took care of business and stepped into the shower, he tried to recall his dreams from the night past, certain that there was some clue therein to the definite surge of enthusiasm and anticipation that left him feeling more like himself than he had in many months. 

Soaping himself up, his face wrinkled in concentration as he pieced together snatches of said dreams, and tried to figure out their meaning, if meaning there was. 

_I was a wolf! Yeah, that’s right. It was like the last time,_ and he shuddered involuntarily at the unhappy recollection of his drowning at the fountain. 

_I was a wolf then, but waiting in the jungle – wanting to move on, but not able to, because I could hear Jim’s jaguar. And I went back when he called. And we merged... OK, not going there!_ he scolded himself. _That was then, this is now. No point in dwelling on ‘might-have-beens’._

So. What does it mean this time? And he concentrated harder, allowing the dream sequences to coalesce in the forefront of his mind. He recalled the feeling of being watched – stalked, almost – but not being unduly worried by it. Just impatient. Eager for his watcher to make himself known. 

Because it was Jim! Jim was there! At least, in his jaguar spirit animal form. Was Jim looking for him? Coming for him? And if he was, what did he want? Was it some sort of portent? And Blair stared at his blurred reflection in the steamy mirror for long moments before dragging his attention back to completing his shower and drying himself off. 

Because despite the tingle of anticipation that he couldn’t completely ignore, pure self-preservation demanded that he ceased dwelling on it for the time being. For now it was far safer to enjoy the welcome energy boost, and concentrate on the upcoming concert. 

Quickly dressing, he left his room to seek out Casey, looking forward to getting together with his friend to decide between themselves what numbers they would perform at the Folk Festival. Smiling happily, he was actually humming as he ran lightly downstairs....  


\-----------------------------  


**Sunday morning, on the road to Newport:**  


Jim drove with exaggerated vigilance, determined not to give in to the urgency he felt growing within him as he drew ever closer to his Guide. However, he couldn’t help the nervous tapping of his fingers on the steering wheel, or the grinding of his teeth in frustration that was enough to set the muscles of his jaw jumping. In one way, the trip had been far less tortuous than he had expected, as he had found to his relief that as the distance gradually closed between him and his target, his senses began to realign and his control over them increased incrementally as the miles passed. He still managed to contain his impatience, however, and err on the side of caution by spending the night in a cheap motel. He realised that he would be better served by having a decent night’s sleep, which would also allow him to finish the last stage of his journey comfortably the following morning. It wouldn’t do to arrive at Blair’s address stressed-out and exhausted in the middle of the night, however much he needed to reconnect with his Guide. 

And the rest stop had held its own revelations, as Jim had woken abruptly in the wee small hours of the morning uneasily aware that he was being watched. Sure enough, his jaguar spirit animal was prowling restlessly around the room, growling deep in his throat and fixing Jim with the closest thing to a feline frown that Jim had ever seen. 

_Yeah, I know! You don’t have to nag! I got the message, OK? Find the Guide. Protect the Guide. **Cherish** the Guide!_

And what the hell was he doing ‘talking’ to a vision? With the opening notes to ‘The Twilight Zone’ running around his head, he had settled down again to try for a couple more hours’ sleep. 

He refused to waste time and energy dwelling on the consequences if Blair chose not to take him back. The thought was intolerable, and not to be contemplated. 

On the other hand, although Jim was convinced that he would be able to persuade Blair to at least attempt to repair their working relationship, he wondered uneasily how the upcoming encounter would play out. He was definitely worried about the other man’s health. Incacha’s words from months before weighed heavily on his mind, and he felt profoundly guilty that he had ignored his old shaman and friend’s warning for far too long. 

He knew that Blair was alive and leading some sort of reasonably active life, but if Jim’s own worsening condition over the intervening months was anything to go by, Blair could well be on a far more dangerous downward spiral. 

But even if they both accepted their need for each other, would Blair be glad to see Jim for Jim’s sake, or only for the healing that bonding with the Sentinel would bring? And did it really matter? 

Certainly Jim had said some unforgivable things to Blair – wounded him deeply – so it would hardly be surprising if Blair simply tolerated him; hardening his heart in order to protect himself against further hurt at Jim’s hands. And if he couldn’t or wouldn’t love Jim any more, did Jim really care? 

Short answer was yes, he did. With a pang of guilt he recalled deliberately reliving the moment their spirit animals had merged at the fountain, when they had become as one, instantly learning everything about each other. He cringed now as he remembered the discovery of Blair’s deep love for him. Blair being ‘in love’ with him. And his utter shock and inability to accept the gift of the younger man’s selfless generosity. 

And the worst thing about it was that Jim wasn’t at all sure even now how he really felt about Blair. Possessive, for sure. Protective, certainly. And able at last to admit to and embrace his gratitude for everything his Guide and friend had done for him over the years. And yes, he had grown to love the other man in his own fashion. But he honestly couldn’t say whether he was ‘in love’ with Sandburg. Mainly because he had no idea what the concept of being ‘in love’ actually entailed at least as far as he, Jim Ellison, was concerned. 

As the outskirts of Newport passed by his window, he decided to shelve that particular facet of their relationship until another time. For now, it would be enough just to see and touch his Guide in the flesh again. To reassure himself that Blair was still alive and not irreparably damaged. 

However, having made that decision, on impulse he continued driving into the town despite the fact that he knew the farm where Blair was staying was a few miles out the other side. Telling himself firmly that it wasn’t a touch of last-minute cold feet so much as a need to check out the place where Blair had been living and working this past year, Jim pulled into a public parking lot and sat for a moment. Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was barely 8.00 am, so he’d made very good time over the last stretch of his journey after leaving the motel. Grinning wryly, he guessed that, if his Guide remained true to form, Blair still wasn’t a ‘morning person,’ so Jim could afford to wait for a little longer before springing what was sure to be a real surprise on him. Coffee suddenly sounded like a great idea, especially as Jim hadn’t felt like stopping for breakfast en route, so he locked up the truck and set off towards the harbour front, intending to stretch his legs and then find a café or coffee shop. 

Finding a small but welcoming booth, he got a coffee and a sausage and egg muffin to go, and wandered along the sea front until he found a bench where he could sit and enjoy the view and his breakfast in peace. 

Although he’d had reason to drive down the Oregon coast on a few occasions, he couldn’t recall ever stopping in Newport for any length of time, so he looked around him with interest. As it was fairly early on a Sunday morning, there were few people around as yet, although the keener fishermen were already up and about. 

Finishing his coffee and muffin, Jim tossed his trash into the nearest trashcan and walked on a while longer until another glance at his watch told him it was after 9.00. Even Blair should be up by the time Jim arrived at Butler’s Farm, so Jim headed back to the truck, trying to ignore the slight feeling of breathlessness he was experiencing as his heartrate increased with the onset of nervous anticipation.  


\------------------------  


Meanwhile, at the farm, Blair was indeed up and about. Despite a lingering fatigue due to the previous evening’s unaccustomed activity and entertainment, he had passed a restless night, feeling increasingly uneasy and jittery as the morning approached. The concert had gone very well, with Blair enjoying himself far more than he’d expected. He had performed a solo number to rapturous applause, and then a duet with Casey which was equally well-received, and he’d be lying if he denied how good it had made him feel. He had been pleasantly surprised at how much local talent was represented, and had stayed until the end of the show, happy to listen and socialise with Casey and his other friends and several of his students who had all come along to give him moral support. 

Now, however, he could barely keep still long enough to drink a much-needed mug of coffee, and he knew that Polly was giving him concerned looks as she pottered around the kitchen preparing a light breakfast for herself, Casey, Naomi and Blair. 

“You sure you’re OK, honey? I’d expected you to have had a bit more of a lie-in again, especially after last night’s exertions. I thought you’d be going home after your numbers, although I’m really glad you felt able to enjoy the rest of the show. Is there something I can do to help?” 

“I’m sorry, Polly. It’s nothing I can pin down, honestly. It’s just that, over the last two days I’ve felt increasingly uneasy. Almost like a premonition, you might say, that something important’s about to happen. And I don’t know whether to be scared or excited – or both! I’m sorry if it’s bothering you, Polly. I just can’t seem to control my nerves!” 

Crossing the kitchen to envelop him in a reassuring hug, Polly replied, “Don’t apologise, honey! I can see something’s gotten you wound up, and I’m just concerned is all. But whatever it is, you know we’re here for you, so take comfort in that, OK? 

“Now, you need something inside you, so how about some of my oatmeal? I know Nina won’t mind if you have a dollop of her latest batch of honey on it. The bees have done well these past couple of years.” 

Allowing himself to be led back to the table, Blair grinned in real appreciation. “Thanks, Polly. Oatmeal and honey sounds great. And thank you for always saying the right thing to make me feel better.” 

After tucking in to his breakfast, Blair did indeed feel calmer, enough so that when Naomi and Casey came down to join them, he was able to chat to them and behave almost normally. True, Naomi did look askance at him a couple of times, but put his slight twitchiness down to residual exhilaration from last night’s successful performance. 

With breakfast over, and the clear up done, they were just about to disperse when Blair suddenly froze in his tracks, eyes wide with shock and face draining dramatically of what little colour he had. As he swayed in place, Naomi rushed up to support him with an arm around his waist, while Casey moved to his other side to do the same. Equally concerned, Polly was about to grab a chair for him when there was a knock on the door, and Blair stiffened even further. 

Torn between helping Blair and answering the door, Polly quickly decided that Naomi and Casey were quite capable of seeing to him for the moment, so she opened the door to reveal a tall, buff and handsome man, whose patrician features wore a deeply troubled expression. 

“’Morning Ma’am. My name’s Detective Jim Ellison. I believe Blair Sandburg is staying here?” 

And before Polly could utter any sort of response, there was a soft moan from behind her, and Blair sank bonelessly to the floor in a dead faint. 

Although Casey and Naomi were doing their best to prevent his collapse, it was Jim who reacted instantly and caught the smaller man, easily bracing the lax body before he hit the tiles. Supporting Blair’s head and shoulders in his lap, Jim gazed down into the unconscious Guide’s face. 

“Oh shit, Chief,” he murmured, carefully stroking Blair’s unruly curls away from his forehead. “I knew it’d be a shock for you, but I didn’t realise just how much of one. Jeez, kid, you’re skin and bone! What’s been going on with you?” Oblivious to the others for the moment, Jim swiftly catalogued his Guide’s condition, absently noting that his senses were working perfectly. 

As he had already noted, Blair was conspicuously underweight, and his skin was paler than Jim remembered, stretched tightly over prominent cheekbones. He had dark rings like bruises beneath his eyes, and Jim was upset to note that there were definite stray threads of grey in his hair. 

And that was another shock for the Sentinel. Although still abundantly curly, Blair’s hair was much shorter and haloed his pale face. Gone were the long locks Jim had secretly loved to see, and if he had but known it, they had been absent for a year now. Blair had hacked them off in an agony of despair after leaving the loft for the last time that night. Standing in the tiny bathroom of a cheap motel, tears streaming down his face, he had done what he had declared he’d never do, in a symbolic demonstration that he was no longer the person he thought he was, or ever would be again. 

When he had arrived at the farm and had made the appointment to attend the interview for his teaching post, he had gone to a hairdresser and had his ragged efforts tidied up, but he had never again allowed his hair to do more than touch his collar. 

_Aw, Chief! Why did you do it?_ Jim thought, sadly bemoaning the loss. _Did I really hurt you that much?_ And he was uncomfortably certain that yes, he had. 

However, his ruminations were abruptly halted by Naomi, who hissed furiously from where she crouched at Blair’s other side. 

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing here, Jim Ellison? Goddess knows you’ve caused enough harm! Are you here to hurt my baby again? Because if you are, _Detective_ , you’ll have to go through me first!” 

Initially taken aback by the pure venom in Blair’s pacifist mother’s tone, Jim swallowed hard at her uncompromising protective stance and the genuine maternal love she exuded. 

Even as he maintained his gentle grip on Blair’s limp body, he looked up to meet her burning gaze head on; peripherally aware of further eyes boring into his back from the others present. 

“No, Naomi. I don’t want to hurt him anymore. Or ever again, if I can help it. I’ve finally come to my senses, if you can believe it, and I know I’ve done him great harm. And to myself in the doing. But now I realise that I need him more than oxygen. And I’m sorry to say, he needs me just as much if he’s to get his full health back and survive. 

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I need to tell him – to explain. Just give me – give us both – the chance to try and set things right.” 

Naomi’s angry frown became more perplexed as she tried to take in his words, but her reply was aborted as Blair moaned and shivered in Jim’s arms, plainly coming round.  


\----------------------------------  


Blair opened a bleary eye and peered myopically up at the face looming over him. As he fought to make sense of the blurred features, and also shake off the mild nausea and disorientation caused by his faint, he gradually became aware of the feeling of comfort and security he was greedily soaking up from the person in whose lap he was lying, and whose hand was gently stroking his hair. Smiling a little dopily, he murmured softly “Jimmmm,” only to abruptly waken fully, suddenly only too conscious of his position on the floor and how he got there. 

“Oh man!” he muttered, struggling to sit up, only to be gently restrained by familiar arms. 

“Easy there, Chief,” a longed-for but totally unexpected voice murmured. “Give yourself a few moments there before you try to get up. You don’t want to go down again.” 

And Blair felt himself go beet-red as he turned away from the solicitous gaze searching his face. 

“Oh man,” he repeated softly. “I’m like, so embarrassed. This is the worst, man....” 

“Why’s that, Chief?” Jim asked quietly, face reflecting his concern. “I mean, I’m really sorry to have given you such a shock turning up out of the blue like this, but I thought it for the best. If I’d have given you advance warning, you might have tried to avoid me. Not that I would have blamed you, but there’s a very good reason why that shouldn’t happen. And I promise I’ll explain everything once you’re steady and on your feet again.” 

“Um, you don’t get it, Jim,” Blair continued, face still burning in shame. “I mean, you come all this way to see me – for whatever reason – and I pass out! Like some swooning maiden! Shit, I’m so embarrassed. Way to impress a cop and a Sentinel at that...,” and he tailed off, the last words almost sub-vocal. 

And Jim knew exactly where his Guide was coming from. The smaller man had always had a pretty low self-image, considering himself too short and too puny, especially when confronted by Jim’s buff physique. But he had always stood his ground, and had never ‘wimped out’ whatever he said about himself, and no one of Jim’s acquaintance who really knew Blair would ever accuse him of it. Cupping a hot cheek in his palm, Jim urged Blair to meet his eyes again. 

“Despite what you think, Chief, I _don’t_ believe that you’re a wimp at all. In fact, I consider you to be one of the bravest men I’ve ever met. But I can tell even without the senses that you’ve been unwell, and I’m sure it’s been going on ever since you left Cascade; am I right? Give me a chance to explain properly, and you’ll see that no way is this down to being any sort of wuss. But I – we – can do something about it. I promise.” And he looked deeply into Blair’s wide blue eyes, desperately trying to convey his utter sincerity. 

And Blair found himself equally desperate for Jim to be telling the truth. Yearning for it, in fact, with every fibre of his being. 

However, the spell was broken when Naomi butted in, still angry at Jim and needing to see for herself that her son really was OK. 

“That’s all well and good, Jim, but it’s up to Blair to decide if he wants to hear what you have to say. And if he says no, then I want – we _all_ want you to leave and not come back.” 

Jim sighed as he looked up to meet her burning gaze, knowing she meant well, but had no concept of that which she was trying to prevent. 

“I’m sorry, Naomi, but for Blair’s sake, I can’t promise that. As I said, it’s for both our benefits, and Blair’s in particular, that I explain in full, and that’s what I intend to do.” Turning back to meet and hold Blair’s perplexed regard, he continued. “If you’re ready, Chief, I’d like to get started as soon as you feel able. It really is that important, so if there’s somewhere in particular you’d like to go, I’m asking you to trust me once more and come with me.” 

And there was no way in hell Blair could have denied him.  


\------------------------------  


**Shortly afterwards: Blair’s cliff top meditation spot:**  


Jim and Blair stood shoulder to shoulder, gazing out to sea and listening to the waves breaking over the rocks below. The ride to the spot had been undertaken in virtual silence, broken only by Blair’s murmured directions as both men had plenty to occupy their minds. Although Naomi, Polly and Casey had all objected in varying degrees, Blair had recovered enough to make his decision – as if it were ever in doubt – and excused himself to have a heart-to-heart with Jim. He had apologised yet again for worrying them, but insisted that it was necessary, if only to find some sort of closure. 

Standing in his favourite meditation spot, he was both eager yet anxious to hear what Jim had to say. 

As for Jim, he had his own version of nerves, but had also had plenty of time to reach this decision, and had screwed up his determination to do this for the sake of his Guide, if not for himself. 

Smiling down at the curly head facing fixedly out to sea, he began gently. “You know, Chief, I’m a bit surprised at your choice of private place. I mean, given your dislike of heights, I would have thought you’d have chosen somewhere inland and quiet?” 

And Blair grinned up at him, a little sheepish, but receptive of Jim’s genuinely non-judgemental query. 

“Yeah I know. Seems a bit odd, given my phobias, but see, I always liked this spot ever since I discovered it by accident when Naomi and I first stayed here when I was a kid. It’s pretty much overlooked by most folks because they tend to go to the public scenic viewspots where they can park up easily and check out the lighthouses and stuff like that better, so it’s usually secluded. And I always loved the sea, in whatever season. And I never actually step up to the wall and look down,” he added with a self-deprecating smirk. “Always out. Out towards the horizon. You can see whales sometimes, migrating...,” and his voice took on a slightly dreamy quality. 

“I understand, Chief. I always loved the sea myself – unless I was out over deep water, as you well know!” and he exchanged a conspiratorial grin with his Guide. 

“Anyhow, shall we sit in the lee of this wall? There’s so much I need to tell you. And although I’m pretty darned nervous, I want to do this. OK?”  


\-----------------------------  


A short while later found them still sitting side by side, with Blair tucked snugly into Jim’s side, a comforting and supporting arm wrapped around his shoulders. Jim had recounted everything he had learned from Incacha and his visions with commendable impartiality, neither glossing over his own problems over the ensuing months, nor those that Incacha had described as likely to affect his Guide. Eventually winding down, he looked down at Blair’s lowered head, and said, “So there you have it, Chief. I fucked up monumentally when I threw you out – both times! When I was too scared to take that trip with you. And when I accused you of being untrustworthy. All I can say is, I’m sorry, Blair. I was so caught up in my own problems; I was too selfish to see what I was doing to you. I’m so sorry you have no choices left, Chief. I want you. I _need_ you. We need each other to survive, and I’m prepared to take that final step and take that trip with you now. I swear I’ll stand by you; keep you safe for ever. I can do no more with all good conscience. 

“But I completely understand if you hate me for what I did. For what I _didn’t_ do. I just don’t want you to fade away and die because of me, Chief. I love you too much for that.” 

Blair was silent for a long time, although Jim was sure he could almost hear the cogs spinning in his Guide’s agile brain, processing everything Jim had told him. 

Finally, the young man looked up to meet his worried gaze, the wide blue eyes luminous with pain and deep emotion. And as Jim had already guessed, it was on his Sentinel’s behalf rather than his own. 

“Oh man, this is so – so unfair! If this is karma, then it sucks, for sure. I’m so sorry, Jim. So sorry that you have to bond with me when it’s so obvious that I’m not the Guide you want. I mean, I’ll do it. Of course I will. Your health – and mine – depends on it. But you made it plain so many times that you don’t see me as your true Guide and soulmate; even less your shaman; and I got to say that hurts, man. The unkindest cut, and all that...” and he hung his head in sorrow, his grief almost palpable. 

Cut to the quick, Jim responded immediately, unable to withhold the comfort and reassurance Blair needed so badly. 

“No, Chief. That’s not what I meant. Not at all. I _do_ want you, babe. But I’m just not sure if what I feel for you is enough for you. I never want to lie to you or deny you again, Blair. We’ve both suffered from that lack of communication in the past, and there’s no place for it now if we’re to complete this bond. I’ve been so lonely without you, Chief. I can’t work efficiently, even when I don’t consciously use the senses. You balance me in every way, Blair. As Jim the man, Jim the cop and as Jim the Sentinel. I’ve never felt so close to anyone in my life before, even Carolyn. So even if I’m not ‘in love’ with you, I think I could be. Eventually. And I know you love me. Are in love with me, and for what it’s worth, I’m so very grateful for it. 

“But I don’t want to lose you again, Chief, and not just because we’d be condemning ourselves to a slow death apart. I never would have believed it. Never would have thought anyone could have gotten under my skin like you did. The loft’s empty without you. Cold and unwelcoming. I’ve put your name on the deeds, Blair, just so you can be sure I can never throw you out again even at my worst. It’s truly your home now, if you agree to come back with me. 

“I neither know nor care if it’s a Sentinel and Guide thing, a Jim and Blair thing, or a combination of both. I want you with me always, and I hope – pray – that you feel the same way. I _do_ trust you, Chief. I was so wrong to say those things. You’ve always been the most loyal and trustworthy person in my life. If there was any betrayal, it was down to me, not you. I can’t promise I’ll be sweetness and light from now on, and I’ll undoubtedly say cruel things again. 

“But you have to stick with me. Don’t let me push you away. Kick me in the proverbial butt if necessary! Fight for what you think is right, and we’ll make it. We’ll make it work.” 

By the time Jim had finished his impassioned plea, he was unbelievably relieved to see a spark of real hope bloom in the huge blue eyes fixed on his face. The hunger and longing in the stormy depths brought a lump of emotion to his throat, and he swallowed audibly as he fought to contain a few tears of his own. After a long moment, Blair’s throat worked as he tried to form his answer, not realising he was gripping both Jim’s hands tightly in his own as they had unconsciously turned to face one another, knees touching as they knelt on the hard-packed dirt. 

“Thank you, Jim. Thank you for being so honest with me. I truly appreciate it, especially as I know how much you’ve always hated the mystical shit,” and he offered a brief, sad smile. “It’s true that I love you – am in love with you. Always have been, and always will be. I admit that initially it was love for the concept behind my Holy Grail. The opportunity to study and help my very own Sentinel, and experience first-hand the wonderful things he was capable of achieving. But I soon caught on. When I said it was about friendship all those years ago, it was already way more than that, but I didn’t think you wanted to hear it from me. I’d fallen in love with Jim Ellison, the man. My hero, in truth. 

“I suppose I ought to be hurt when you say you aren’t ‘in love’ with me in the same way, and I suppose I am to a certain extent, but they’re only words. What you’ve expressed today – what you’ve admitted to and shown me – it’s more than I ever expected, man. And I’ve always known that you cared for me – about me – in your own way. Enough to come for me when I was ready to die even though for so long I couldn’t understand why you bothered. 

“Put it this way, if you don’t mind me channelling ‘Meatloaf’,” and he chuckled a little sadly. “You know the song?” and he began to sing softly. “‘I want you, I need you, but there ain’t no way I’m ever going to love you, so don’t be sad, ‘cos two out of three ain’t bad’.” 

As the hauntingly lovely voice fell silent, Jim reached out and cupped Blair’s cheeks in his warm hands, stroking the soft skin beneath Blair’s luminous eyes with his thumbs. 

“Oh Chief, its way more than that, I promise. And I’ll work on these goddamned ‘fear-based responses’ if that’s what’s making me hold back from the final step. I certainly love you enough to want to spend my life with you, and commit fully to my Guide. And I’ve always recognised that you’re a beautiful man, Blair, so I’m hoping that we’ll be able to work up to a physical relationship also. But you need to be very sure, Chief, because the last thing I want is for you to feel I’m only doing this because I have to for my own good – or because Incacha told me to. It’s taken me far longer than it should, but I’ve learned the hard way that I’m not complete – not even happy – without you in my life, and I’m certain I’d feel the same even if the senses were gone for good. 

“Come home, Chief. Blair. I don’t know yet how we can sort things out between us. Find what works for you. But I’m asking you to give us both the chance to discover it together.” 

Completely unable to voice a response around the tears clogging his throat, Blair reached for Jim, his eyes pleading for understanding as he tentatively drew the bigger man’s face down towards his. Slowly raising his chin, he slanted his head to brush Jim’s mouth with the gentlest of kisses, his soft lips barely touching Jim’s. Withdrawing nervously so he could see Jim’s reactions to his presumption, he was overwhelmed with relief when, far from anger or disgust, the other man’s eyes held nothing but awe and tenderness as he smiled gently down into Blair’s worried face. 

“Can I take that as ‘yes’, babe?” he murmured with an endearingly shy grin. And Blair nodded happily as he threw himself into Jim’s open arms. 

“Oh yeah, man, you really can,” and he gave in to the tears of pure joy that began to stream down his face as he hugged Jim as hard as he could.  


\------------------------------  


**Part 4: A Healing Touch:**  


**Shortly after, Polly’s kitchen at Butler’s Farm:**  


When the two men entered the kitchen together, Jim’s arm wrapped supportively around Blair’s shoulders, he could feel the smaller man quivering slightly against his side. He could hardly blame Blair, because his Guide had been subjected to a rollercoaster of emotions and revelations over the past few hours, and now had to deal with the reactions of his mother and adopted ‘family’. Squeezing the too-thin shoulder beneath his hand, he offered Blair a reassuring smile when Blair peered quizzically up at him, and Blair responded with a grateful smile of his own before turning to face the tableau before them. 

Naomi’s expression betrayed both anxiety and irritation, and the look in her eyes was shrewd and calculating as she studied them closely. She had plainly stopped almost in mid-stride at their entrance, and had likely been wandering restlessly around the house during their absence, unable for once to find her centre enough to relax and ‘let it go’. On the other hand, Polly had been poking desultorily at something cooking on the stovetop, and her expression was clearly one of relief as she recognised the glow of hope and happiness that Blair exuded despite his nervousness. Which left Casey, who was sitting at the kitchen table making a poor attempt at apparently studying a craft magazine. Although he also was relieved to see that Blair appeared to be noticeably more cheerful, and was too fond of his friend to wish that the reunion had gone badly, he was human enough to feel disappointment on his own account. And he still didn’t trust the other man not to turn on Blair and hurt him all over again, because he was sure that his friend couldn’t take another hit like that and survive intact. Blair’s heart was still fragile, and if broken again, would never heal. 

It was Naomi who was first to react, breaking the awkward silence that stretched uncomfortably as they stood – or sat - regarding each other. 

Moving quickly, she held her hands out to Blair, and cupped his face gently, all but excluding Jim as she studied her son carefully. 

“Are you really OK, Sweetie?” she began, her tone warm but her concern obvious. “You do look a little better – less drawn – and your aura is certainly brighter. But I’m still worried for you, baby. Is this a lasting improvement, or just a fleeting moment?” and she raised her eyes to include Jim in her question, a frown of distrust darkening her eyes as she stared boldly at the taller man. 

“It’s OK, Mom, really. I _am_ better, honestly. I can’t explain everything yet – hell, we’ve still got plenty to discuss between ourselves – plenty to process!” and he chuckled softly as he glanced up to meet Jim’s amused smirk, grinning as the older man ruffled his curls affectionately. “But as soon as possible, I promise we’ll tell you - all of you – as much as we can about our plans.” 

Turning to face Naomi, Jim spoke up, adding his own reassurance and trying to inject as much sincerity into his demeanour as he could. 

“Look, Naomi, I know I’m going to have a hard time convincing you that I mean Blair no harm. No _more_ harm, that is. God knows I’ve hurt him enough over the last year simply by hiding from the truth, and for a good few months before then. I freely admit I’ve been scared on my own account, and self-centred because of it. I reacted badly, and I’m not proud of it, but I’ve had plenty of time to find out just how wrong I was to push Blair away like I did. All I can say is that I’ve been shown very convincingly the errors of my ways, and I’m here to set things right. Blair knows now how much I need him, and I think he understands how much he needs me. All I’m asking is for you to give us a bit more time to figure things out between us, then we’ll let you in on the deal, OK?” 

Naomi automatically stiffened at his words, preparing to defend her cub, in a manner of speaking, only to be distracted by a gentle hand on her arm. Polly smiled softly, trying to both comfort her old friend and offer an olive branch of sorts to this imposing but apparently unthreatening intruder on their turf. 

“Look, Detective Ellison – ah, Jim. We’re all feeling a little stressed right now, and understandably so. However, since Blair doesn’t seem distressed at your presence, I think perhaps it would be a good idea if you two continued your reunion in peace and comfort upstairs? I think tonight we’ll have a communal Sunday dinner, so if Blair is up to it, we’ll all get together then and talk things over in a more relaxed setting. That acceptable to you, Sweetie?” and she ran her hand through Blair’s curls in a reflexively maternal gesture. 

And Blair couldn’t help but offer her a grateful smile as he replied, “Thanks, Polly. That sounds great. Um, OK with you, Jim?” he added with a touch of hesitancy, shooting an appealing glance at his partner. Immediately aware of this small but overt indication of Blair’s residual deep-seated insecurity, and unhappily certain that everyone else present had noted it, Jim forced down his instinctive urge to bristle indignantly at the perceived if unconscious attack on his integrity, knowing that he fully deserved it. 

“Yeah, sure, Chief,” and he squeezed Blair’s shoulders again. “Sounds like a plan, and I appreciate your hospitality, Ms?” 

“Polly is fine, detective. And we’ll call you Jim if that’s OK with you. We don’t stand on ceremony here. 

“So, you’re welcome to either share Blair’s room, or take the other guest room – whichever suits you best, and we’ll see you both at dinner. Around 7.00-ish, OK?” 

Gratefully accepting Polly’s offer, Jim and Blair excused themselves and made their way up to Blair’s room, relieved to have gotten over the first hurdle in getting Jim introduced to, and hopefully, accepted by, the Butler’s Farm community.  


\----------------------------  


**Blair’s room, that afternoon:**  


Jim peered down at the curly head resting on his shoulder, a fond smile on his face. They were both lying on Blair’s bed, with the smaller man half-covering Jim; one hand resting on his chest and a leg thrown across the taller man’s thighs as if to prevent his escape. Blair himself was dead to the world, his chronic exhaustion catching up with him shortly after they had reached his room, falling deeply asleep almost in mid-sentence as they had attempted to continue their soul-searching discussion. 

But Jim didn’t have it in him to be impatient. He was just so grateful to be able to hold and comfort his Guide like this, wallowing unashamedly in the sensual pleasure of Blair’s proximity. Shifting his glance, he took stock of the small but comfortable room, on which Blair had imprinted his personality, damaged though he undoubtedly was. A colourful throw which had once adorned the back of the sofa in the loft now covered the (unmade) double bed, and a familiar tribal mask hung above the dresser. Piles of books and papers were stacked against the walls and covered the small desk, on which Blair’s ancient laptop took centre stage in all its battered glory next to a cheap printer / copier combo. A few of Blair’s favourite artefacts such as his small collection of kachina dolls had been placed haphazardly on any available surface, such that the whole room was undoubtedly cluttered, but also typically Blair’s. 

And despite the Sentinel’s natural desire to tidy up and clean the place from top to bottom, Jim the man revelled in the way the room exuded the scent and personality of his much-missed Guide, and he longed to transport every untidy item back to the loft where it belonged. 

To be honest, they had had little time to continue their heart-to-heart discussion, as Blair had visibly wilted once they had reached his room. Despite his desire to talk, Blair had more or less dropped onto his bed, pulling his legs up in an unconsciously child-like position, a huge yawn taking him unawares. 

“Oh jeez, I’m sorry, Jim. Look, perhaps if I take a shower or something, I can wake up enough to talk? This is so demeaning, man...,” and he had turned his face away, plainly disgusted with himself. 

“Oh no, Chief! I’m not about to let you run yourself down like that. It might be long overdue, but I’m much better at understanding where you’re coming from now, and it’s about time. 

“Look, Blair. I don’t have to be a Sentinel to know you’re running on fumes; and the emotional trauma on top of that means you’re bound to be feeling exhausted. What I _would_ like from you right now is just to hold you while you take a few minutes’ down-time. What say we just make ourselves comfortable on your bed, and continue our discussion when you feel better? Unless you’d prefer I went next door...?” he added, his courage deserting him for a moment. 

“No, Jim, don’t go,” Blair responded immediately, holding out his hand for Jim to take. 

“I am tired, but I want you to stay. Please Jim! Please stay with me?” 

And Jim smiled with no little relief as he settled himself on the bed beside his Guide. Gently positioning Blair with the smaller man’s head pillowed on his shoulder, and wrapping his arms protectively around the slender body, he whispered, “Sleep, Junior. We’ll talk later, and I promise I’ll still be here when you wake up. Sweet dreams, kiddo!” and he had dropped a gentle kiss on Blair’s crown as his Guide smiled softly and hummed in contentment as he let go and sank quickly into slumber.  


\---------------------  


As it turned out, Blair took considerably more than a few minutes’ down-time, his weakened physical condition craving the relief, and able at last to draw on his Sentinel’s strength. And Jim was just as content as his senses revelled in the close contact, becoming more settled yet sharper than ever before. With his Guide in his arms, the Sentinel cast out his senses with confidence, and, determining that they were under no threat, followed Blair into sleep.  


\---------------------------  


The better part of the afternoon had gone by the time Blair roused, although Jim had awoken some time before. Drowsily rubbing his cheek against Jim’s shoulder, Blair hummed contentedly at the feeling of warmth and security as his brain began to process where he was and on whom he was lying. 

Smiling gently down at the tousled curls beneath his chin, Jim murmured, “You OK, Chief? How’re you feeling?” 

“’M up,” came the groggy response, only for Blair to jerk fully awake, trying to push himself up and off his unconventional pillow. “Sorry, man! Didn’t mean to take advantage...” he babbled nervously, face heating in embarrassment, only to have Jim tighten his arms about him again. 

“Relax, babe! No harm, no foul. I’m quite happy for you to stay put. I could get used to having my own personal TeddyBlair!” and Jim chuckled fondly, pleased when Blair settled against him again. 

“Thanks, man. I can’t remember when I had such a good sleep. I feel so much better,” and Blair lay quietly for another few minutes, soaking up the warmth and comfort offered. 

However, his bladder was growing steadily more insistent that it needed emptying, so eventually he was forced to move. “Sorry, Jim,” he muttered apologetically, “But I gotta go. Back soon though...,” and he slid reluctantly out of Jim’s hold to make his way to the bathroom next door. 

Business taken care of, he washed his hands and face, and feeling decidedly more alert, he re-entered the bedroom and smiled a little shyly at Jim, who was now sitting up on the bed, looking relaxed and confident, and the epitome of Blair’s every fantasy. 

Rising gracefully to his feet, Jim moved towards the door, squeezing Blair’s shoulder in passing. 

“Won’t be long, Chief, back in a minute,” he murmured as he too made use of the bathroom. 

With both of them once more settled side by side on the bed, propped comfortably up against the headboard, Jim pulled Blair close again, tucking him against his side and noting with pleasure how perfectly they fitted together. They sat quietly for a while, their thoughts introspective although the silence was a companionable one, broken eventually as Blair began a little diffidently. 

“This is so nice, man. You holding me like this, that is. I feel so safe – so protected. Um, I was thinking, that it must have a lot to do with what Incacha told you...,” and he raised his eyes up to meet Jim’s, a part of him still afraid that the other man might revert to his old self and cut short Blair’s attempt to talk. He needn’t have worried, though, because Jim – the ‘new’ Jim – was fully resolved to give his friend and Guide his full attention. 

“In what sense, babe?” Jim replied. “You’re talking about the bond, right?” 

“Yeah, Jim. It’s just that it seems to me that touch – the physical aspect of the Sentinel and Guide partnership – is easily as important as the spiritual connection.” He held Jim’s gaze, his eyes seeking Jim’s approval, and brightening in relief and pleasure as Jim nodded, indicating that he continue. 

“See, when we first got together, I noticed how you used to touch me a lot. Much more than I’d ever been used to before on a day-to-day basis, but once I got used to it, I really liked it. It was so much a part of you, and it felt good to be on the receiving end.” He ducked his head and blushed a little before continuing, plainly psyching himself up to get the next part of his explanation out. 

“Um, I have to say that for my part, it was more than just a friendly response. I had to concentrate so hard on suppressing my natural reactions, man. I mean, I thought you were straight, and I so didn’t want to jeopardise our relationship by coming on to you. Pheromones, man, you know? So I taught myself to control my sexual urges by turning my attention to dating women only. But your touches meant so much to me. I felt energised by them, you know? 

“But then you stopped. After you read that first chapter, you seemed to withdraw from me. And later, when Alex came along.... 

“I’m sorry, man. I’m not blaming you, honestly. I just want to explain how I felt, and why I think I felt that way,” he continued urgently, wanting to assuage the pain that filled Jim’s eyes at his words. 

After a moment or two, Jim nodded. “OK, Chief. Can’t say I’m too happy right now, but it’s OK. We’ve got to get things out into the open, so keep going. I think you’re probably on the right track, Darwin!” and he grinned ruefully down into Blair’s worried face. 

“Thanks, man. I really don’t want to upset you, because I was just as much at fault. Anyhow, as I was trying to say, I think I had begun to rely on your touch, and I felt – I don’t know – incomplete without it. And then we merged, and I was so sure we’d be OK again. But you didn’t want it, and I felt lost. Isolated and cold. I felt as if I was fading away, just a little bit more every day, and it made me angry and bewildered.” He hung his head then, trying to contain his tears as he whispered the next words, voice deepening in pain. 

“I don’t think I would have lasted much longer if you hadn’t come for me, Jim. I mean, I wouldn’t have done anything stupid like doing away with myself, honest, but it was getting so very hard to keep going.” 

Cuddling Blair close, Jim couldn’t help the few tears that leaked from his own eyes as he absorbed the smaller man’s grief. 

“I’m so sorry, Chief. You’re right. About touch being so important. And for what it’s worth, I’m pretty sure it was those damned fear responses again. I liked touching you, and your touch grounded me so I could use the senses better. And it was only your touch that could bring me out of a zone so quickly. 

“But I was scared of needing you too much. I thought you’d get your degree and leave me. I know I misjudged you, but everyone else I’ve ever gotten close to has left me one way or another, and I didn’t want to be cast adrift when you went. So I let go first, and continued to push until you had no option but to go. But I was still so angry when you actually left. 

“And you’re right about the feeling of being less than complete, although I brought it on myself. My senses seemed just fine for a while after the Alex fiasco, so I thought it was safe to deny you and begin to push you away. Even told myself I was doing you a favour, getting you out of harm’s way! But I was deluding myself. They were already beginning to feel less comfortable even before you left although I couldn’t admit it to myself. And over the past year, well, I’ve already told you how bad things were getting. 

“But now they feel better than ever before, now I’m holding you, and it may sound fanciful, but I can almost feel you healing in my arms. As if I can share my strength with you. And it feels so good.” 

Smiling happily as he hugged Jim back, Blair replied, “Yeah, it does, man. And how much better will it be when we complete the bond?” 

And Jim’s face was a picture of joy as he rolled Blair beneath him, cupping the beloved face between warm palms as he gazed into shining blue eyes. 

“It’ll be the best, babe. Better than the best!” and he lowered his head and claimed Blair’s lush lips in a loving kiss, full of reassurance and the promise of a future together.  


\--------------------------------  


A couple of hours later, a relaxed and happy pair made their way down to the kitchen where the rest of the small group were gathered for dinner. By mutual consent, they had determined that they would wait until they had settled on more definite plans before actually cementing their bond with the full sexual act, but they had spent a very enjoyable time making out in Blair’s bed; kissing, touching and exploring. Learning each other like never before, and loving every minute. They had also shared a shower, where more intimate touches had brought them both release, although there had been a slight down-side as far as Jim was concerned, not that he’d let on to Blair, however. 

Jim had been shocked by Blair’s physical condition when he had carefully stripped the smaller man naked, even though he already knew that Blair had lost a significant amount of weight. His normally sturdy and compact figure was thin almost to the point of emaciation, and his muscle tone wasted such that he had an unnatural air of fragility. Despite the fact that his beauty remained intact, it had an almost ethereal quality to Jim’s eyes, and he cursed himself inwardly that he had been too stubborn to have come for his Guide much sooner. 

However, Blair was so genuinely happy with their reunion that Jim refused to dampen his spirits by indulging in another guilt trip, so he kept his thoughts to himself, and worshipped his partner instead by washing the smaller man lovingly, his touches sentinel-soft as he soaped and rinsed every inch of his hair and body. 

From Blair’s point of view, he had been enthralled by the sight of Jim’s physique, which was even more buff now than he remembered. Naturally body-shy himself, he was almost embarrassed to reveal himself fully to Jim, well aware that he was in poor shape and therefore even less attractive than usual in his own eyes. Although he guessed that Jim was upset at what he saw, he was incredibly grateful that his new lover could care for him so tenderly and didn’t seem in the least put off by his Guide’s condition.  


\----------------------------  


As the pair entered the kitchen, with Blair once again tucked cosily against Jim’s side, they saw that they were the last to arrive, and Blair couldn’t help but pause a little in the doorway as everyone turned to look at them, their expressions ranging from curious to worried to almost intimidating as the group carefully assessed Blair’s state of mind. However, after only the slightest hesitation, Blair treated them to a genuine, beaming Sandburg smile as he pulled Jim forward with him to approach the table. 

“Hey, everyone, this is Jim Ellison. My partner. And my Sentinel!” and he turned to look up at Jim, face radiating love and pride. And Jim wasn’t in the least bit concerned at the freely-offered information, since he was well aware that Blair’s adopted family were long acquainted with Blair’s obsessive search for a modern-day Sentinel. He also accepted with equanimity Blair’s assurance that they weren’t about to betray Blair’s trust by revealing Jim’s presence and abilities to all and sundry. 

It was Polly who broke the ice, as, her expression changing swiftly from speculative to welcoming, she crossed from where she had been tending the stove to meet them. Hands held out to take one of Blair’s in both of hers; she looked from one to the other, saying warmly, “Come on in, you two. I hope you’re both hungry, because I think I’ve cooked enough for a small army!” Then, gently patting Blair’s cheek, she added more quietly, “You look happy, honey. Is he that good for you?” and she flicked Jim a not unfriendly glance. 

And Blair grinned at her in real pleasure, also offering Jim a loving look before meeting her eyes again. “Yes, Polly, he really is. He’s just what I need.” 

Turning to face Jim properly, Polly then took one of his hands and said, “Well, in that case, you’re most welcome. Come and sit down, and we’ll introduce you to our little family,” and just like that, the tension in the room eased as the others relaxed, glad that the initial contact had been made. 

As the meal progressed, Jim was pleased to find that he was enjoying himself far more than he had expected to, given that he must have been regarded as some kind of selfish and brutal ogre in terms of his treatment of Blair by virtually everyone present. Ruefully admitting to himself that they were right on the mark until very recently, he could only be grateful that his change of heart had apparently been accepted to a great extent. Although Naomi and Casey were noticeably cooler in their approach to Jim, the others were all plainly delighted with Blair’s obvious and genuine happiness so were inclined to treat Jim with much more warmth than he thought he was entitled to, and chatted cheerfully enough, including him in their conversations. 

During the evening, Jim learned a lot about the creation and development of the community, as well as being regaled with tales of the young Blair’s adventures and achievements, much to his partner’s blushing protestations. 

However, once the meal was done, and they were all relaxing in the cosy living room with their choice of coffee or tea, or in Jim’s case, beer, Andy finally took it upon himself to broach the subject of Jim and Blair’s reconciliation, and what it would mean to them both. 

Although their long association with Blair and his obsession meant that everyone had a fair grounding in ‘Sentinel’ theory, they had only their recent experience and observations of Blair’s distress to go by as a partial insight into the deeper implications of what a Sentinel and Guide partnership really entailed. So with Jim’s full agreement, Blair provided them all with a concise and factual account of what he and Jim had surmised about the effects on both the Sentinel and Guide once the bond was initiated, and the repercussions if it were ignored. With Jim’s input where necessary, he dealt with the inevitable questions arising, stressing the fact that they were in full accord now, having learned from their mistakes and accepting responsibility where due for their break up. 

However, at this point Naomi burst into tears, convinced that her meddling in releasing Blair’s dissertation had proved to be the final straw that broke the camel’s back. Although he would have preferred to take her to one side and lay the matter to rest between them once and for all, Blair realised that she actually needed to deal with her guilty feelings openly, trusting in the judgement of her close friends to either accept her explanation and apologies or not. 

“It’s OK, Mom. Truly. Yes, I was deeply hurt by your actions. People were injured because Sid released parts of the diss to the media, and Jim especially was hounded and unable to do his job because of the attention. I did what I did with the press conference because I had to do something fast to set things right. But at the end of the day, it was Sid Graham who did the real damage. If he had done as I asked and deleted his copy, no one would have been the wiser, except that I would have learned an important lesson in protecting my work and my partner’s anonymity better. 

“And to be completely honest, the break up was going to happen anyway. The diss business just made it happen quicker. You didn’t prevent us from bonding fully, Mom. It should have happened after Jim brought me back at the fountain. After the merging of our spirit animals set the whole thing in motion. 

“But there were reasons why we didn’t – couldn’t – follow through. All you did was bring things to a head. 

“So I’m asking you to forgive yourself as I’ve forgiven you. I don’t want to speak for Jim, because it’s not my place to, but I want you to forgive him too. Can you do that? For me? Because I wasn’t blameless either, Mom,” and he fell silent, his eyes full of compassion and understanding, even though he was also worried that he might have overstepped the mark where Jim was concerned. 

He was mightily relieved when Jim pulled him closer, almost into his lap as he hugged his Guide, needing to reassure him that he wasn’t angry with him again. 

“Blair’s right, Naomi. I was angry with you, but more because it led me to accuse Blair undeservedly of greed and disloyalty than for the action itself. As Blair says, it was Sid Graham – and Chancellor Edwards at Rainier - who did the damage by releasing Blair’s intellectual property to the press against his explicit request. And I’m pretty sure that even now we can get some sort of apology and recompense for that if we get some legal advice babe,” and he smiled at Blair’s astonished reaction to his words. 

“Anyhow, be that as it may, the failure to complete our bond was mostly down to me, whatever Blair says,” he continued soberly, and frowned briefly at the younger man as if daring him to contradict him. “It’s true, baby,” he murmured for Blair’s ears only. “Let me admit it and get it out in the open. I need to get it off my chest too.” And at Blair’s anxious but understanding nod, he turned back to Naomi, but included them all in his speech. 

“I never wanted the senses – couldn’t see them as a gift like Blair did. I wanted them gone, and actually managed to repress them and even turn them off a couple of times before our merge at the fountain sort of switched them on permanently,” and he grinned wryly at his bemused audience. Then his face hardened as he forged ahead with his confession. 

“I didn’t want a partner. I certainly didn’t want one who was going to write about me. But I felt I had no choice if I was to get the help I needed. So I used Blair. I used him as much as he used me to begin with, except that we became friends. And that scared me more than anything. 

“It was fear that made me keep him at arm’s length even though deep down I knew that I needed him. Wanted him. And I didn’t want to feel that way! I saw it as a form of weakness when I’d always been self-reliant. Alone. Yes, he made some errors of judgement, but they were nothing in comparison to what I did, and I had no right to accuse him of treachery. 

“But I honestly didn’t intend to make him suffer like he has this past year or more, however angry I thought I was. I just couldn’t bring myself to believe that I’d condemned him to a short life of pain until I began to suffer myself. And even then I was unforgivably slow to act on it. But I’m here now, and I’m never leaving him again. 

“So yes, I do forgive you, Naomi, and ask that you – that you all – try to forgive me in time.” 

He didn’t realise at first that his face was slightly damp with tears after his emotional outpouring, although he could taste those that Blair shed on his behalf when the younger man kissed him softly before tucking his face into Jim’s neck as he hugged his Sentinel hard. 

Once again it was Andy who finally broke the silence that had overtaken them as they pondered Jim’s words. 

“Well then. Looks like there’s plenty do to get you two settled into your new life together. When you’ve decided how you want to proceed, let me know what I can do to help.” And as Jim and Blair thanked him gratefully, the others all converged on the pair, and either hugged them or shook their hands, each of them pledging to do the same.  


\-------------------------------  


**Epilogue: A New Beginning:**  


**The Loft, 6 months later:**  


“You ready for this Chief?” Jim moved up behind his partner, and wrapped his arms around the slender waist, dropping a kiss on the exposed nape. Blair’s hair was still short, but not too short, and now he’d gotten used to it, Jim thought that the curls that haloed his Guide’s face actually accentuated his beauty even more than the flowing locks of the past. 

Leaning back against the broad chest, Blair turned his face so he could see Jim whilst quickly stuffing the last few items into his new backpack. His smile was soft, and the shining eyes were full of love and appreciation as he replied, “Yeah, I think so, Big Guy. Funny though, I feel like I used to as a kid on my first day at a new school. Sort of happy, excited and nervous all at the same time! Silly huh?” 

“Not at all,” murmured Jim, dropping a soft kiss on the corner of Blair’s luscious lips. “I mean, you might know Rainier’s campus like the back of your hand, but the Criminology and Forensics courses you’ll be taking will be very different, and you won’t be doing any teaching this time around.” 

He could have bitten his tongue at the comment when Blair’s face fell slightly at the reminder. 

“Sorry, babe,” Jim continued contritely. “I didn’t mean to remind you of what you used to have. And I still think you’ll be able to get that PhD....” 

Turning fully in the circle of Jim’s arms, Blair smiled up again at his taller partner. “It’s fine, Jim. Honestly. I’m just being silly. I’m grateful, truly, to have been accepted for the new courses, thanks to Eli and Dr Swenson’s brilliant references. And yours and the PD’s support, of course. I want to do well, is all, so that I can do a better job as an official consultant. And your official partner...” and he was more than happy to allow Jim to deepen the kiss that followed. 

Once they had come up for air, Blair continued, eyes a little dreamy as he gazed up into his Sentinel’s still slightly concerned face. “Yeah, I’d still like to get that doctorate somewhere down the line, Jim, maybe in Anthro after all with the ‘Thin Blue Line’ diss. Which actually only needs a little more tidying up before it’s ready to submit. But first I need to re-establish myself as a credible candidate, and it’s more important right now that I live up to my side of the bargain considering the fantastic deal Simon, the Commissioner and the Chief created for me. For us. 

“And maybe, just maybe, I might re-write the Sentinel paper as a sort of self-help manual for people who believe they have heightened senses. Not yet, though, and certainly not if it can impact on you, lover. I’d just like to think that somewhere down the line I can offer some hope to other individuals who may be suffering,” and he frowned a little, his natural empathy kicking in. 

Running his hand gently through Blair’s curls, Jim smiled down into the dark blue eyes that sought his. “That’s fine, babe. And it’s no more than I’d expect from you. It’s in your nature to want to help people, and I can certainly appreciate that, having experienced it first-hand. And who am I to try and stop you doing what comes naturally? So, better get a move on, before I drag you back to bed and make you late for your first day!” and he gently swatted the delectable butt beneath his hands before pushing Blair towards the door. 

“OK, OK, I’m going!” laughed Blair. “But I’m going to hold you to that tonight!” and he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, his laugh changing to a throaty chuckle as he leered at Jim. 

“Little tease!” Jim growled, eyes darkening with lust. “Go on, before I have my wicked way with you after all!” and Blair giggled again as he turned and slipped through the door, his soft words clearly audible to the Sentinel as he ran down the stairs. “Promises, promises! See you in MCU lunchtime...! Love you, man...” and Jim followed him with his senses as he drove away, the Volvo sounding much healthier now since Jim had had it overhauled completely on their return from Newport. 

Having taken a couple of hours’ personal time that morning so he didn’t have to get to the PD until later, Jim pottered around clearing up the breakfast things, deciding to do a bit of cleaning while he was at it. Taking out the carefully-chosen, sentinel-friendly products Blair had bought for him, he started with the kitchen and carried on, finding the activity actually quite therapeutic as it gave him the opportunity to let his mind roam while he carried out the mundane tasks. 

Smiling contentedly, he contemplated his Guide as he worked, happy and relieved to reflect on how well the younger man looked now in comparison to the too-thin, pallid ghost he had found in Newport six months ago. Deliberately refraining from re-visiting the guilt he still felt about his part in letting his Guide suffer so much, he pictured instead the man as he was now. Not completely healed, because he was still a little underweight, but bright-eyed and happy now, his colour normal, and best of all, his energy and bounce were returning a little more each day. 

Now humming softly, Jim continued to clean, allowing himself to recall everything that had happened over the last few months to bring about that healing, not just for Blair but for him also.  


\----------------------------  


Monday morning following Jim’s introduction to the Butler’s Farm family saw Blair leaving for the college to teach his morning classes. He promised to return for lunch, noticeably reluctant to leave Jim so soon, but both of them knowing that he wouldn’t fall down on his obligations to his job and to his students. 

“You going to be OK, Jim? Have you got something lined up to keep you occupied while I’m gone?” 

“Stop worrying, kiddo. I’ll be just fine. Casey says there’s quite a bit of work to do around the farm – repairing the fences, fixing the roof on one of the outbuildings, that sort of thing. I think he was quite pleased when I said I liked working with wood, as it leaves him free to concentrate on his sculpting. As long as they don’t expect me to do what that Harrison Ford character did in that film. You know the one. ‘Witness’”, and he grinned at Blair’s perplexed frown. 

“Barn-raising, Chief!” and he chuckled as he urged Blair out of the door. “See you later, babe!” 

Once Blair was on his way, Jim had taken the opportunity to call Simon to bring him up to speed on what was going on with Jim and Blair, and to set in motion the first tentative moves in reconstructing their new life together. 

“So, Jim. He looks rough, but better now you’re with him, right? And he agrees with those notions of yours about the two of you bonding? So what do you intend to do now, Jim? Will he come back to Cascade? Will _you_ be coming back?” 

“I think so, Simon, especially as he knows I’ve added his name to the deeds to the loft. Not that he expects to benefit from it. You know what he’s like about material goods, but it’s a kind of guarantee that I can’t kick him out again. I’ve got a long way to go until I can really convince him I mean well, but it’s a start.” 

“Fair enough, Jim, and I’m glad things are better than you thought they might be. But he still needs something to come back to – apart from you, that is. Any ideas about what he might like? And what can I do to help...?” 

And Jim told him.  


\------------------------  


The two men had fallen into a gentle and satisfying routine over the next few days, although both of them knew that this state of affairs couldn’t last as Jim would have to return to Cascade at some point, and Blair had decisions to make about his future. Being alone wasn’t an option, but neither was living off Jim, and Jim knew Blair was worried about making the right choices. 

However, Jim was quietly looking into creating some acceptable openings although he was keeping them to himself until they were set up, not wanting to build Blair’s hopes up only to see them dashed again. He was well aware that they had promised each other to communicate fully from now on, but salved his conscience in this instance by telling himself that Blair would be better served by having definite options on which to base his decisions. 

In the meantime, Blair continued to teach his classes; Jim helped out with whatever needed doing on the farm, and in between times they continued to enjoy each other’s company, rebuilding their trust in each other and exploring their relationship. Jim was also practicing using his senses now they seemed to be so much sharper, certain that it was at least partly due to the fact that he had accepted them at last for the gift they were and had stopped fighting them. And needless to say, Blair was thrilled that Jim was working with him without complaint, accepting Blair’s suggestions and tests with admirable equanimity. 

However, they had yet to consummate their bond, although they slept together and enjoyed touching intimately, kissing and learning about each other’s preferences and erogenous zones. It was as if they were both waiting for the right moment, and that they would both know exactly when that would occur. 

And Blair’s birthday was fast approaching.  


\---------------------------  


As he moved on to start cleaning the bathroom, Jim’s grin widened as he recalled that day, which became a landmark in so many ways. 

May 24th conveniently fell on a Saturday that year, so that Blair didn’t have to worry about classes. He had asked if it could follow the same pattern as the previous year, as he still preferred to keep the celebration quiet and limited to his adopted family – and Jim, of course. Polly, Naomi and the others were all happy to accede to his wishes, and all agreed to prepare an offering for a communal evening meal as before. The only difference this time was that instead of going off alone, Blair took Jim with him to their favourite lookout spot, and settled down comfortably to enjoy a little private time together. With the smaller man tucked snugly against his side, Jim described what he had been doing on Blair’s behalf. 

Starting off somewhat diffidently as he didn’t want to upset his Guide, Jim began by explaining why he hadn’t mentioned anything before. 

“I know we promised not to hold back from telling each other about everything that could upset our relationship, but on this occasion I wanted to make sure I had something concrete to offer before letting on, Chief. I couldn’t bear to see you disappointed if my ideas came to nothing. I mean, you may still not want to take me up on any of my suggestions, and I promise I won’t be offended if they don’t appeal to you. But just hear me out, then make your decision in your own time.” 

Puzzled, and not a little nervous, Blair had nodded his assent, and set himself to listen, eyes fixed on Jim’s and his expressive face reflecting every emotion as he absorbed the older man’s words. 

Jim recalled how he’d begun by reiterating his claim that Simon didn’t actually blame Blair at all for not accepting the badge, and in fact was very concerned about the ex-observer’s welfare. Although Blair had been somewhat disbelieving at first, that fact that this year Banks had made certain he signed the MCU group birthday card organised again by Megan went a long way to convince him that Jim was correct in his assertion. 

“Um, so if we go back to Cascade, I’ll be able to see some of our friends from the PD occasionally?” Blair murmured, his eyes questioning as he sought Jim’s consent. 

Hating the hint of uncertainty in his Guide’s tone, Jim tightened his grip to squeeze Blair’s shoulders supportively and replied with absolute sincerity. 

“Most definitely, Chief. And not only occasionally, either. We have a proposition for you that I really hope you’ll consider. And it’s a proper offer, I promise. Not some cobbled-together attempt to try and make things up to you....” 

And as Blair had listened enraptured, Jim had explained what he and the PD had come up with.  


\---------------------------  


Putting the finishing touches to his now pristine bathroom, Jim thought back to Blair’s enthusiastic, if still somewhat anxious response to his speech. 

Jim had already admitted that the senses were no longer a secret at least within the PD, as evidenced by Jim’s increasingly erratic behaviour over the past year. Far from despising Blair, the vast majority of PD personnel were now openly supportive of the young man, admiring his sacrifice for the sake of his partner even if they might criticise him for his carelessness in letting the paper get released in the first place. He was never going to be universally popular with the die-hard redneck types, but there were enough good officers around to keep the dissenting voices in check. 

Knowing that they either convince Blair to return to the PD or lose Jim to early retirement on medical grounds, Simon, the Chief and Commissioner agreed to create an official consultancy post for Sandburg. Since he had already made it clear that he didn’t want to be a cop, a stint at the Academy wasn’t an option. But as an anthropologist, Blair had already made a significant if unofficial contribution in terms of victim support, particularly when advising those who would listen to modify their behaviour towards members of the public from less socially accepted groups, such as working prostitutes, the homeless or gay victims of crime. 

He had also frequently offered alternative approaches to standard police procedure during investigations, being able to think outside the box, and it was Simon’s opinion that, with some extra specific qualifications under his belt, Blair would continue to be a considerable asset to the department even as he maintained his principal role as Guide to Jim. 

Consequently, with the PD brass’ full backing, Simon approached Rainier to make certain that no obstacles would be put in Blair’s path should he apply for the courses in Forensic Anthropology and Criminology that the Chief and Commissioner preferred he take. Even though there was some expected resistance from Chancellor Edwards, Simon calmly called attention to her part in releasing Sandburg’s work to the media against his will, even going as far as asserting that her error had interfered with police business and put lives in danger unnecessarily. Added to the fact that Blair hadn’t actually submitted the Sentinel dissertation anyway, not only did he pave the way for Blair’s enrolment in his chosen courses, but also wrung a grudging apology from the university’s Board of Governors. 

Jim’s grin became sardonic and his eyes narrowed as he considered Edwards’ ill-tempered reactions to PD pressure, knowing that Blair still tiptoed gingerly around the bitch, but for the most part he had been welcomed back into the academic fold, especially in view of the enthusiastic references he had received him from Dr Swenson, Jack Kelso and Dr Eli Stoddard amongst others. And Jim was certain that his Guide would make the most of the opportunity to immerse himself in his new courses of study, and looked forward to seeing Blair’s reaction and receiving a blow-by-blow account of his experiences when he arrived at the MCU at lunchtime.  


\---------------------------  


Returning to his reminiscences of Blair’s birthday, Jim recalled how Blair had thrown himself into Jim’s arms once he had heard all of Jim’s proposals, unable to hold back his tears of joy, excitement and gratitude. And Jim’s own eyes grew suspiciously moist as he remembered his own feeling of overwhelming relief when he knew that Blair fully intended to do whatever it took for them to work and live together again. 

Of course, when the pair had returned to Butler’s Farm that day, with Blair positively glowing as he explained what he and Jim had decided, not everyone was 100% supportive. Although they all wished Blair well, Naomi and Casey at least had some reservations, not completely trusting Jim to keep his part of the bargain. However, as the birthday dinner progressed, for the most part it was a happy and thoroughly enjoyable and convivial occasion, and Blair’s genuine happiness had touched them all. 

And that night, Sentinel and Guide had cemented their pact and consummated their bond in accordance with Incacha’s hopes and wishes.  


\---------------------------  


As Jim put away his cleaning materials, he felt a warm and welcome heat uncoiling in his gut and groin as he replayed that momentous occasion. 

Although improving daily, Blair was still overly slender and run-down, and in consequence had felt more anxious and insecure than normal even though Jim had constantly reassured him of his attraction to his friend and Guide ever since his arrival in Newport. And on that particular night, Jim had determined to do everything he could to convince Blair of his genuine desire to make love to the beautiful young man, and make him his own forever. Aware of the minute tremors running through Blair’s frame, Jim undressed his soon-to-be lover with care and reverence, kissing the upturned face and soft lips as he caressed every inch of skin as it was revealed. 

“Let me do this for you, baby,” he murmured into Blair’s ear as he nuzzled the elegant neck. “Just relax and enjoy the ride. This is for you, Blair.” And he had laid his Guide on the bed, his touches becoming more intimate and arousing until he had Blair moaning in heated lust as he pushed back onto questing fingers. 

“Now, Jim. Please, man. I’m ready....please!” 

“Your wish is my command, babe,” Jim had replied, barely able to control himself another minute. And as he had entered the hot and silken passage, both men were transported into a clearing in a blue jungle where a familiar figure awaited them. And as they climaxed together in the white-hot heat of their bond, Incacha smiled in satisfaction, his pleasure and contentment suffusing his face even as he faded away as they came down from their shared high. 

“Oh, man! Transcendental!” Blair murmured shakily as he relaxed in Jim’s warm embrace. “Love you so much, Jim. Thank you for making me yours.” 

And Jim had kissed the bare shoulder in front of him as he had maintained their physical connection as long as possible. “No more than you deserve, baby. And I am yours, My Guide! Just wish I’d done it sooner.” 

And Blair had turned his head to look back at Jim, eyes warm and full of love as he replied, “Better late than never, My Sentinel. And Incacha’s happy for us, so the only way is up!” and he had chuckled throatily as Jim felt his libido stirring again. “You got that right, Junior!” and he had set about proving the point....  


\---------------------------  


**Lunchtime, MCU same day:**  


“Hey, Jimbo!” Megan’s strident voice cut across the general bullpen buzz as the irrepressible Aussie grinned over at Jim. 

“Stop looking so worried, mate”, she continued, tone both friendly and sympathetic. “Sandy’ll be here before you know it!” 

Grinning ruefully back at her, when before he would undoubtedly have snarled in aggravation, Jim replied, “Yeah, I know, Connor. Is it that obvious?” self-deprecatingly referring to his somewhat distracted, albeit generally more relaxed and laid-back demeanour. 

“Only to us, Jimbo. Otherwise you look quite normal. The new, improved, Sandy-influenced normal, that is. And it’s good to see you looking so well, mate,” she added softly, knowing full well that he could hear her easily and not wanting to embarrass him in public. 

“Thanks, Megan,” Jim replied warmly, appreciating his colleague’s whole-hearted support. “And here he is!” he added, cocking his head in his instinctive ‘listening’ position as he tracked Blair’s excited voice as he travelled up to MCU in the elevator from the parking garage. 

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Blair bounced into the bullpen with nearly as much energy and effervescence as he had exhibited in the first more carefree and innocent - and happier – months of his acquaintance with Jim and MCU. 

With an indulgent smile, Jim followed Blair’s progress towards his desk, his path hindered by friendly exchanges with H and Rafe, a hug from Megan, and a gentle greeting from Joel as well as acknowledgements from various other occupants of the bullpen. As Blair carefully extricated himself from Megan’s clutches, Jim mused on how he himself had changed and mellowed in the few months since he had claimed Blair as his own. He was only too aware of how he had reverted to his surly, pre-Sandburg persona when Blair had left him, despairing of ever being truly accepted as Jim’s Guide. And this time Jim was ashamed to admit that he had been even more aggressive and anti-social as his senses spiralled out of control. But he had finally been forced to concede that he needed Blair more than oxygen, and with that revelation had come an open-mindedness and capacity for self-evaluation never before experienced, and he knew himself to be grateful for the discovery. 

True, it hadn’t always been easy to maintain his new outlook on life and work, particularly when he had returned to work on his own. Simon had sensibly put him on desk duty for a few weeks until he got back into the swing of things, but he had forced himself to accept the situation in the knowledge that it was only temporary while Blair worked his last few weeks at the community college and made preparations to return to Cascade after the end of the Summer term. 

And during that time, they had phoned and emailed each other every day, sometimes more than once, just to re-connect. They had also managed to meet up occasionally when circumstances allowed, when they would drive to some mid-point where they could spend a snatched night of love and bonding, enough to tide them over until Blair was home for good. 

And when Blair had come home, their connection took on a new intensity as he dedicated himself to his role as Guide and lover; his determination to do his best matched by Jim’s own. 

Finally arriving at Jim’s desk, Blair treated his partner to one of his best patented Blair-smiles; his eyes alight with love and excitement and an adoration that was for Jim alone. 

“Hey, Jim! You ready for some lunch? I’m starving!” and he dropped his backpack beside his chair as he flopped down next to Jim, automatically reaching for a pile of paperwork to see how much still needed attention. 

“Sure thing, babe. You can fill me in on how your morning went, and I can bore you with cop stuff. And then I’ll take you up on your offer of help with that paperwork...!” 

Blair chortled at his words, a mock-frown creasing his brow as he affected a perplexed tone. “Funny, man. I don’t recall making any such offer!” 

“Yeah, but you were going to, Chief! It’s in your nature to want to help your benighted Sentinel, for which I am most grateful, thank you very much. So I’ll just grab my coat, and we’ll make tracks. I’m thinking Wonderburger...,” and he grinned knowing what Blair’s response would be. 

“Oh man, I can’t believe you still hunger for all that saturated fat! Look, how about that new Thai takeout place, then we can eat at the loft in comfort and still get back here to finish your paperwork,” and he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, snickering when Jim’s grin became almost predatory. 

“Little tease! Let me think about it--,” when he was interrupted by a familiar bellow. 

“Ellison, Sandburg! My office!” 

Blair couldn’t quite refrain from jumping slightly, still a little unsure of his status where Simon was concerned. Squeezing his shoulder supportively, Jim smiled down at him, noting the nervous glance and murmuring bracingly, “It’s OK, Chief. You haven’t done anything. And I don’t think I have, either, so let’s just get this over with then we can get that lunch!” And Blair shot him a grateful smile and straightened up before preceding Jim to Banks’ office, to all outward appearances as if he hadn’t a care in the world. 

As the two men entered the office, Simon grinned a little wolfishly up at them, aware that Blair was a tad nervous and not above making the most of it, although it wasn’t his intention to be unnecessarily cruel. Didn’t hurt to keep his men on their toes though; and he chuckled inwardly before allowing his smile to become more friendly and open. 

“Coffee, you two? Latest – and possibly one of the best blends my cousin’s sent me so far!” and he stood and waved the fragrant-smelling pot in their direction. When both men accepted with alacrity, Simon was pleased to see Sandburg’s face brighten as he took an appreciative sip. 

“It’s good, Captain!” he murmured, and Jim nodded in agreement, his own body language relaxing as his partner’s mood lightened. 

“So, Blair. How did you enjoy your first morning back at Rainier?” began Simon, his expression now one of real interest as he encouraged the young man to share. And to both his and Jim’s delight, Blair took him at his word and filled them both in, his words gaining in enthusiasm and momentum as he warmed to his description, realising that his audience was for once genuinely receptive. 

A short while later Blair wound down, deliberately reining in his torrent of words in case he had outworn his Captain’s patience and unwilling to spoil the mood. 

“Well, Sandburg, I have to say that I’m glad you’re enjoying being back in the academic swing of things. And the Chief and Commissioner will be also. Particularly as they have asked me to give you this,” and he held out a slender file for Blair to take. 

Shooting Jim a quick glance, and receiving a smile and nod of encouragement from his Sentinel, Blair took the file and opened it to scan the papers within. And his eyes widened with surprise and delight at what he read. 

Almost blinded by the wattage of the smile directed at him, Simon grinned as he responded to Blair’s mute question. “Yes, Blair. Your position as an official consultant to the Cascade Central PD is confirmed as from today on a case-by-case basis. Your probationary period has been satisfactorily completed, and once you have achieved your extra qualifications you will be confirmed in a full-time role. Your salary will then increase in accordance with administrative staff higher grades. You may well be earning more than Ellison here in the very near future!” and he sniggered at Jim’s fleeting grimace of _faux_ irritation. 

“Congratulations, Blair. It’s good to know that one of us is going to be earning a decent salary!” Jim said with wry humour as he pulled his smaller partner in for a one-armed hug. 

“Hey, Simon!” he continued as he looked from his boss to his Guide and back, eyes shining in mischief. “I think Sandburg’s speechless!” and both older men laughed in gentle mockery as Blair pretended to huff in aggravation; his undisguised happiness only too obvious to his friends. 

“I do believe you’re right, Jim. So how about you take the rest of the afternoon off and have a bit of a celebration? I’ll see you both bright and early tomorrow morning. But don’t think this will happen again anytime soon!” he added with a fierce frown, which changed to a smirk of satisfaction as Jim and Blair both jumped to their feet and made tracks for the door, trailing words of grateful thanks as they made the most of their Captain’s unexpected generosity.  


\---------------------------  


**That evening, the loft:**  


Missing the solid warmth of his lover’s body in the bed beside him, Jim sat up and automatically cast out his senses to search for his Guide. Smiling smugly at the ease with which he now accomplished the action he quickly located the younger man, who was standing out on the balcony, his scent relaxed and content and his breathing steady to sentinel ears. Jim pulled on a pair of boxers and his robe before trotting down the stairs to join Blair, his arms sliding around the smaller man’s waist as he dropped a kiss on the elegant neck. Wrapped up cosily in his own fleecy robe, Blair smelled deliciously of warm, sated sex mixed in with his normal tantalising individual scent, and Jim was happy to indulge his senses in the seductive combination. 

“Hey, Jim,” Blair murmured throatily, turning his head to offer the taller man a kiss. “Didn’t mean to disturb, you, man. Just wanted to spend a few moments meditating,” and he smiled lazily up into Jim’s face, appreciating the handsome features, and the softness directed at him in the pale blue gaze. 

“’S’OK, babe,” Jim replied. “It’s good that it’s warm enough for us to be able to be outside. Mind if I stay here with you for a bit?” and Blair’s smile widened as he nodded agreeably, leaning back with a contented sigh to rest against Jim’s broad chest. 

Resting his chin lightly on the curly head tucked into his neck, Jim relaxed into his own quiet contemplation of the past few hours. 

Having beaten a hasty retreat from Simon’s office and the bullpen, the pair had swung by the Thai takeout and collected a few choice dishes to share for lunch. However, once back in the loft, they found that their appetites were more attuned to something other than food, so after taking no more than a few bites of the delicious meal, they quickly put the food into the refrigerator to enjoy later, and hurried up to the big bedroom upstairs, kissing and stripping themselves of their clothing as they went. Falling together side by side onto the bed, Jim had rolled Blair beneath him, and with his Guide’s urgent encouragement, had prepared him quickly for penetration. The coupling was hot, fast and without finesse, but satisfied both their immediate desires and needs as Sentinel and Guide reconnected with passion. Once they had recovered somewhat, the lovemaking that followed was gentle and unhurried, and every bit as satisfying as the first joining; this time allowing them to enjoy and worship each other fully and revelling in their love for one another. Finally falling asleep in a tangle of limbs, they had soaked up the mutual companionship as their bodies recharged, until Blair awoke, roused from his rest by the mundane but necessary need to seek the bathroom. 

Once up and having taken care of business, he decided to take a few moments to himself rather than disturb Jim just yet and made his way quietly out onto the balcony to bask in the unseasonably warm sunshine. Allowing his thoughts to wander where they willed, he smiled softly to himself as he pondered how happy and contented he was now; so much more so than he had ever been before, or had ever expected to be again. He had his life back, thanks to the efforts of true friends, and he had his Sentinel again. A Sentinel who had forgiven him, and who had saved him from a life of pain and premature death. A Sentinel who loved and cared for him on a daily basis more than anyone had ever done before, even his beloved Mom Naomi. Life was good. 

As for Jim, his thoughts ran along similar lines but from his own point of view as he stood behind his Guide and lover; his soul eagerly absorbing the love and devotion issuing from the beautiful young man in his arms. And he finally came to a conclusion and made the decision to speak out at last about how he truly felt about Blair. Turning the smaller man around to face him, he rested his hands on Blair’s shoulders as he smiled down into the inquisitive face turned up to meet his gaze, wide blue eyes full of adoration and gentleness. Carefully studying every feature, he began to speak, his voice hushed and tinged with awe as he strove to put his thoughts into words. 

“Gods, you’re so beautiful, baby! I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. Or perhaps I did...? Yes, I did, but didn’t want to admit it. And I didn’t want to want you – or need you. But I did – do. And always will. They say love is blind, but in my case I think it was deliberately so, out of self-preservation. 

“I’m so sorry I told you once that I loved you, but wasn’t ‘in love’ with you, Blair, and maybe in my defence I chose to believe that that was the case at the time. I knew you loved me, babe, and couldn’t really understand why after how I’d treated you, but I was truly grateful that you did. That your love for me was full and unconditional, and still is. The bond tells me so. But I still held back. Fear-based responses, hey?” and he grimaced in rueful self-deprecation. 

“But now I’ve had time to think. Thanks to your patience and generosity of spirit I’ve been granted the chance to understand myself; to really assess my feelings and see where they’re leading me. And I need to tell you. I’m sick of this self-deluding denial stuff. I love you, Blair Sandburg. And if what I feel for you isn’t being ‘in love’ with you, I don’t know what is!” 

And as Blair threw his arms around him and kissed him with every bit of love, exultation and fervour that he possessed, Jim knew to the depths of his soul that he had finally done the right thing.  


**The End.** 56


End file.
